


Movimiento 31 de Octubre

by nofox



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Betrayal, Blackmail, Cheating, Crimes & Criminals, Drugs, Día de los Muertos | Day of the Dead, F/F, F/M, Gangs, Gangsters, Love/Hate, Morally Ambiguous Character, Revolution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-09-22 23:34:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 77,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9629930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nofox/pseuds/nofox
Summary: Mexico is a powder keg. The weak and unpopular Portero government keeps an uneasy peace by buying off the cartels and enlisting right-wing militias to suppress an agitated citizenry. As the anniversary of the failed Dia de Los Muertos uprising approaches, Sombra concocts a harebrained scheme to use her old gang to turn an upcoming Lucio concert into a mass protest that will spark the prairie fire of revolution. Talon, however, has other plans for the country...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation of [Paramore](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9249503/chapters/20969384) and the relationships and characters developed there. Its also inspired by this brilliant little piece: [The Voice of Mexico](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12224599/1/The-Voice-of-Mexico). I've been hacking this out on my iPhone in a state of utter despondency but hopefully I can organize it into an actual interesting story. I'm always looking for destructive readers, I would love comments, feedback and criticism, it really motivates me. Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This starts out a little fluffy but things pick up very quickly...

The plan was working brilliantly. Sombra had penetrated into Lumérico's servers and uncovered a scandal that would work beautifully as the catalyst for renewed outrage against the Portero government. She'd done hacks and leaks like this for years and it was par the course. You can always count on a government scandal. Politicians are corrupt, it's a fact. However, as the saying goes, there's a difference between knowing your partner is cheating on you and walking in on them in the act. Portero's government, however, daily jailed and harassed journalists. No one in the press had the balls to leak what Sombra had dredged up and even if they did it could be ignored. Going to Wikileaks would only cause authoritarian histrionics while it circulated among foreign journalists with vague left-leaning politics. No, Sombra wanted maximum impact. But how? She nonchalantly scrolled through the headlines. Nothing in particular caught her eye until one:

_Lucio engaged to actress and celebrity pro-gamer Hana "DV.a" Song_

"What?!" she burst out laughing.

Sombra had stopped reading Lucio's texts since she had become so busy, she'd lost track of him. Her augmented mind sped through the rest of the article. It mentioned Hana's cult following, bad movie reviews, pending lawsuit with the WADA and Lucio's flopped crowdsourced album. An idea brewed in her head...

Lucio's phone rang. Unknown number. He hadn't heard from Sombra in almost a year. There was no way it was her. He answered.

"Luciooo," said Sombra in a singsong voice.

"Fuck," he thought aloud.

She simply laughed into phone continuously for almost 30 seconds.

"What is it? Are you just calling to peeve me out?"

Her laughter increased to almost hysterical levels in response.

"What the hell is it Sombra? My lawyer told me to stop talking to you. He advised a restraining order but that's hard against someone who doesn't exist. You know that you put Hana into therapy?"

She stopped laughing suddenly.

"Listen _puta madre_ , you want to think of me next time a big event happens in your life?"

Lucio had no idea what to say. There was no way he could get a hold of Sombra unless she wanted him to. He was silent as his mind boggled. Sombra produced very confusing feelings for him.

"Hello?" he asked tentatively.

"Oh, you're still there. You hang up on me and I'll fry every piece of hardware you own"

Again, he remained silent.

"Ahhhhh!!" Sombra suddenly screamed happily. Lucio recoiled from the phone. "She's the one? I fucked her twice and I could tell she was special!"

"I know, I was there," he said regretfully.

"I was thinking I wanted to put champagne in her butt, as like a gift. She still into butt stuff?"

"Whoa, Sombra! Nonono, I'm stopping that right there. That's my fiancé you're talking about"

Sombra chuckled. "Sure thing _cabron_. I'm pretty sure Hana loves me. Hey, maybe I'll do it to you. You can probably fit an avocado up there by now. How was the breakup?"

"Not pretty."

"Daww, _pobricito_. I don't know why you get hung up on girls. I used to get you laid, you know?"

A burning fact eluded Sombra, every single one of Lucio's absurd and wild hookups were so he might have a chance with her.

"You're just stupid, I guess," she added.

"Hey! I don't have to take this," he snipped.

Sombra was silent.

"What? Wasn't paying attention."

Lucio held the phone away from his head and gripped it in anger before calmly raising it back to his ear.

"I'm assuming you want something?" he said calmly.

"As a matter of fact, yeah. You have a concert coming up in Mexico City."

"I do, I was hoping that would slip by."

"It did, until the tabloids reminded me you existed."

"You-, your memory would be shit if it wasn't for your augmentations."

" _Vete a la mierda_. Lucky for you, I can have the press keep track of you. So, I need a favor..."

Sombra's favors could take years off a man's life. Lucio cringed.

"Listening? I want you to piss off the president when you get here with some unflattering tweets. In other words, I want you to leak something for me. Can you do that?"

Lucio thought to himself. No, this is too much. It wasn't about the politics. It was Sombra. He thought he had been freed from her bind and now he was right back in. He just wanted to be stable.

"Um-"

"You’re about to say no," she interrupted.

"What?"

Her tone chilled.

"You didn't immediately say yes, you're hesitating."

Lucio laughed.

"Are you joking, Sombra? I didn't say anything!"

"There is a 93.738% chance you were going to say no. I know what you think before you think it, _pendejo_. You forget I'm a fucking computer. You better do this. You owe me, I know you're still cashing in on the favor I did you-"

"Fuck! God damn you, Sombra! If you know what I'm going to say why are you giving me a hard time?"

Her tone lightened. "Because this is the best way to manipulate you."

Lucio felt mildly dissociative. He forgot that Sombra was pure evil. He sat down. What Godless creature installed that computer in her back?

Sombra chuckled. "You shouldn't try to play games with me Lucio. I'm very very good."

Lucio sighed. "OK, Sombra, I'll do it but I have my limits. Details."

"So, you leak the info I give you and the day of the concert you rile up the crowd. I'll be there with some Los Muertos people to help. We want the cops to show up. Understand?"

Lucio rubbed his forehead. Lucio prided himself on making his shows fun happy events. He never shied away from a political message in his music but his political actions and music were separate. No one would expect this from him, innocent people might get hurt.

"You want a riot."

"Call it what you want. Just try not to think about it too much. I'll be in touch."

The line was cut. He listened to the dial tone for a moment. There was about 3 days before he started his American tour.

Hana pranced out of her room listening to her headphones. She found Lucio sitting in contemplation. She took her headphones off.

"Heya! Why so glum? You're never glum," she said straddling him.

"Oh nothing, just thinking about the tour."

"Whateverrr, you can do it," she said jokingly, "give me attention. It'll cheer you up."

He smiled at Hana's ridiculousness and kissed her softly. It did cheer him up. They were very in love.

"How was work?" he asked putting his phone to the side.

"I pwned," she sneered.

"Oh yeah? What's that? That's good right?"

"Like oh-em-gee, what're you like a thousand? Are we not engaged? I beat everyone 'cause I rule and they suck dick."

Lucio laughed. "Ookay, D.Va, you are riding some wave. I don't play video games, yo. Do you talk trash like that on your stream?"

"Yeah," she laughed, "in Korean, its way better. Kiss me more."

She leaned in and they kissed affectionately.

"I love you," he spoke softly.

She pulled away.

"Gee, you think?"

"Oh my God, your ego right now."

"You like it," she jeered.

Hana looked at him with a sly expression.

"I know what would cheer you up."

She began to slowly take off her shirt. It was the height of their relationship. On average they had sex about 4-5 times a day and they were ready for each other at the drop of a hat.

Lucio chuckled. "OK, baby," he said looking at her teenage body as she pulled off her bra, "you know me too well..."

They variously made love and fucked like rabbits on the chair.

 

* * *

 

Hana kept Lucio inside her and wrapped her arms around his neck. He pressed his head against her chest and felt her heart still pounding.

"I love you," she said softly as she held him.

"I love you too."

The investment in this armless chair had paid off. She had ground out a fairly decent orgasm—something that came with comfort and practice with Lucio. He had come hard inside her—Hana had decided to go on the pill on account of their relationship. All-in-all they were happy, glowing in the chemical pleasure of the moment.

Lucio's phone flickered and unlocked. The screen went dark with the blinking underscore of its command line. A series of commands executed and text scrolled across the screen. Hana noticed.

"Lucio, your phone..." said Hana. Sombra's calavera mark appeared. "No, that's not..."

A loading bar appeared and crawled across the screen. The couple got off each other. Lucio grabbed his phone.

"What the hell?" he muttered.

Suddenly, Sombra's face flickered on to the screen.

" _¡Hola!_ " she said with a wave.

Hana screamed and covered herself.

"Nice to see you too. So, Lucio, after some thought, I figured I would, um, 'fix' your phone so you couldn't refuse my calls. This job requires perfect timing and coordination."

"Job?" repeated Hana incredulously. "No way, bitch. Lucio's not doing your dirty work."

Sombra failed to recognize she'd spoken. "Don't even think of undoing my changes or getting a new one," she warned, "Keep it on you, I'll know if you aren't carrying it."

"You can't invade my privacy like this, Sombra! Look at me, this is a fucking awful time!" Lucio protested.

"I can, I do, I just did."

"She's joking right?" muttered Hana.

"Oh, Hana, actually it's a good thing you're here. Don't try and stop Lucio and don't involve yourself. It's likely you don't understand what you're doing. If you tamper with this phone I will know."

"Oh yeah, just what are you going to do?" threatened Hana.

"Don't," replied Sombra dripping with malice, it sent a chill down Hana's spine.

"Lucio... what's going on?" she whispered pulling on his arm.

"I don't know, this is different," he replied quietly.

Sombra wasn't playing. She was planning something big.

"Your obedience is required, but if your conscience feels uneasy," said Sombra sternly, "know you'll be an instrumental part in toppling a corrupt authoritarian dictator."

The hacker disappeared. Hana and Lucio looked at each other nervously.

Suddenly, Sombra flickered back. "Oh and congratulations on your engagement, Hana. He's a keeper. _Adios._ "

She was gone. Lucio cringed and looked over his shoulder at Hana. This was going to be a fight.

"What the fuck?!" shouted Hana.

"Hana, I..."

"What the ffuck!?" she repeated riding the 'u' and holding her arms out in exasperation. She looked at him in horror and confusion. Months of therapy had just gone out the window. Lucio watched her face become noticeably red from embarrassment and anger. "What the fuck?! Is she serious? You let her talk to me that way? You roll over? You're going to just do what she says?"

"I don't know, Hana. I owe Sombra and you know how she is."

"That's why you were so torn up a moment ago, you were probably thinking of her while you were fucking me!"

"What? No! No, that's... what?"

"I feel so violated..."

"Hana, I'm sorry, you've only known Sombra when she's playing and even then she is dangerous." He sighed, what he was about to say discomforted him but was an undeniable part of his relationship with Sombra. "In truth she is, well, a psychotically violent terrorist."

Hana fumed.

"How the-? How are you friends with her? Don't tell me you feel threatened by her!"

"It wasn't always like this. She used to be a revolutionary like me but when she was caught—I don't know what they did to her in prison—she changed. After she got her augmentations she became worse."

Hana swallowed. She'd spent months trying to work out her feelings about Sombra, trying to undo the intense paranoia and jealousy she felt. "I almost liked her more before. You're telling me she's insane?" she asked.

"Hana, she will kill you or me without hesitation. I've never seen her do it but people are like things to her. I'll just do the job, make sure no one gets hurt, she'll sort out the rest and this will blow over. What she's asking is small."

He went to hold her but she backed up.

"Hana, you know I'll always protect you and do what's right."

"Fuck you, Lucio. You're friends with a terrorist. You know I was in the military when I was 16? I used to fly out to Junker Town and battle with my mecka _for fun._ She's not more dangerous than me. You won't stand up to her!"

How was Lucio going to explain this to her? The less Sombra was in his life the happier he was. He sighed.

"You don't get it... She can hear us right now. Either I explain this to you or Sombra shows you herself. Its dark. I'm sorry."

Hana sat on the floor and began to cry.

Lucio stepped over and squatted down to talk. "No, I know it's weird. I'm sorry. Look, the upside is that Sombra likes us. She won't let anything happen to us and she'll owe us."

"She's just a hacker. You're talking like she's a god or something."

Lucio scratched the back of his head. When it came to computers she was almost omniscient. She had the same hacking capabilities as a nation-state. Her only problem was that she would get in over her head.

Hana glared at him.

"Nothing to say? That's it?"

"When it comes to computers..."

"Ugh," said Hana standing. She sniffed. "I need to think."

She walked to her room.

Lucio stepped into their bedroom and lay down staring hopelessly at the ceiling. Would he ever be equal to Sombra?

"Alone?" asked Sombra over his phone.

"Guess not. Whatever you are going to do to Hana, try to take it easy."

Sombra chuckled. "Sure thing, boss."

A few hours later Hana stepped into Lucio's room frazzled. She'd undone all the work she did earlier and worse.

"Do what she says," she said wide-eyed.

"Are you serious?"

"I want to live a happy life. I can't be happy if machines work against me."

"Wha-?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

Sombra's voice suddenly interrupted from Lucio's phone. " _Aye yaie_ , it wasn't me, how do you know it was me? What game uses a mouse and keyboard these days? They break so easilyyy," she chided, "Why don't you love birds buy something to cheer yourselves up?"

"Is she going to be on there the whole time?" said Hana pointing to Lucio's phone.

"Who knows? I'm a psychotic terrorist, I can do aaanything," she mused spinning in her chair and putting her feet up.

Hana picked up her phone and tried to make an Amazon purchase. _Declined_.

"Bitch," muttered Hana.

"You've proven your point, Sombra," said Lucio flatly picking up the phone.

"Hey, how about this one?" Sombra showed the frames of Hana jumping back and covering herself in surprise when Sombra hacked Lucio's phone.

"I'll kill her," said Hana darkly.

"Oh man, what's that on your leg, Hana? I know, we can ask the internet..."

Hana grit her teeth in a fighting rage. She turned and looked at Lucio with burning eyes.

"Lucio, get her to stop," she said punching his arm. "Do it," she said hitting him again.

"Sombra, leave her alone, she already said she'd stay out of it," he said rubbing where Hana struck him.

Sombra huffed and folded her arms in protest.

"Aw, Lucio, you never let me have my fun, I was this close to leaking nudes," she said pinching her fingers together in front of the camera, "I tell you its the only way to break into mainstream appeal. I'll make you famous kid."

Hana let out a train of Korean expletives as Sombra cackled.

"Welp, its been fun kids, I'll be seeing you very soon, Lucio..."

She blinked out. Sombra's assault had ended, for now.


	2. Chapter 2

_Azores: secret Talon military base, earlier that week_

 

Sombra stood in an empty white room. It was familiar, they'd used such a room when they first interrogated her before she became an agent. An array of cameras recorded her every movement. Transmitters were hidden in the wall so they knew everything she said was true. The only distinguishing feature of the room was a mirror which she presumed was two-way, however, she had never seen a way one could get into such an observation room if it was there.

Talon was a bizarre organization. There were no ranks, no numbers, people were only ever referred to as 'agent.' Sombra had never witnessed administrative staff, only agents who had various intelligence, military or scientific duties. The hierarchy was never explained except that all agents were briefed the same way: they were brought into such a room and subjected to a chorus of tinny voices speaking in turns piped in over an obnoxious P.A. system.

A red light activated indicating that the transmission had started. The door mechanically locked shut.

"Agent Sombra, you are being reassigned." The voice was female maybe Spanish.

"This new assignment is appropriate for your unique skills," added a deep omnic voice imitating an Nigerian man, "you are to be deployed to your home country where you will join a Talon operation in progress."

"Mr. Portero's government is weakening by our influence," came the voice of a neurotic Brit, "we have infiltrated his government at every level. However, our forces are not powerful enough to depose him, yet."

The voice twisted with static and transformed into that of a sophisticated Greek man.

"We believe you have the means to put the final nail in the Portero regime's coffin."

Quickly the iteration of voices became too many to follow as they twisted into a range idiosyncratic personalities, nationalities and genders. Sombra stood emotionless as the cameras trained on her. She had learned to show as little as possible to Talon. Interrupting the voices and asking questions garnered disdain and contempt from them. Insubordination would turn the briefing into torture and the room into a cell since they controlled the doors and lights.

"Your mission is two fold. 1. You are to engage in psychological warfare against the Portero regime to undermine its legitimacy."

"You are to use any means necessary to erode international and popular support for the government."

"Expose and magnify corruption, divulge any scandal, real or fake. You understand."

"2. You are to use your connections in the criminal underworld to conduct missions deemed too high profile for our undercover Talon operatives."

"Namely, _overthrowing the Portero government..._ "

"... _And the assassination of president Portero._ "

"According to our evaluation of your psychological profile and history, we believe that you will have a vested interest in the success of this operation."

"You will be given whatever financial and military support you need for this mission."

"Do not disappoint us."

The red light deactivated and the door automatically unlocked. Sombra stood for a moment as a maniacal smile grew across her face. This mission was practically a personal gift. Sombra stepped out of the room to find Widowmaker waiting impatiently.

"And why are you so happy?"

"Oh, nothing," replied Sombra with her eyes alight, "I get to go home."

Widowmaker chuckled with disdain. "Do you even have a home? We picked you up like a stray."

Sombra half-smiled. "Don't act better than me, _chica_. I know how you got this job. You're not that impressive."

Sombra pushed by her, she had work to do.

The Talon archives listed a number of agents deployed in Mexico but the records were sparse. There were no details of their mission or whereabouts. Sombra pulled her timecard out of the Talon database terminal, a retro way of keeping tabs on who had access. This mission was odd. She needed details from someone who knew.

"Gabe," she knocked on the door to his dormitory.

"Don't call me that..." he replied continuing to stare at his computer.

"I'm being deployed to Mexico, you've worked down there for Talon. What's the deal with this mission? I can't find any information on Talon operatives assigned to it."

"There's no secret. The operatives are working in cells to keep the op decentralized. You want to know what they are doing? Go to Mexico."

Sombra folded her arms and scowled, this was a dissatisfactory answer.

"That's great, Gabe. Really great. So, it's so secret that not even anyone in Talon knows what they are doing?"

Reaper stood from his desk and approached Sombra. He had a habit of throwing her against the wall when he was annoyed so she stepped back.

"You think I'm wasting your time? I'm telling you what I know. If you just go, they will find you."

He slammed the door in her face.

"Jesus," she muttered.

Sombra walked to the requisition room. Talon agents stared at her as she passed through the winding metal hallways of the base. One Talon agent lowered her targeting computer and scanned her. Others gossiped in hushed whispers. It was no secret that Sombra was hated at Talon. Her reputation for blackmail and the use of reckless and unorthodox tactics preceded her along with a gamut of personality flaws.

When she arrived she logged into the computer and checked her account. Her heart leapt as she watched the zeroes march across the screen.

"By any means necessary is right..."

Sombra, however, had other plans. Talon agents were rewarded highly for coming in under budget and Sombra was typically very very cheap. Rather than military hardware, she relied on the favors of friends.

She requisitioned a stealth troop carrier and arranged for a flight to the outskirts of Mexico City.


	3. Chapter 3

Sombra's transport touched down silently in the night. She trekked to the side of the highway and watched several hover cars pass.

Sombra was shopping.

A purple luxury sports sedan passed. Just her style. Sombra activated her haptic keyboard and targeted it. In a second she was in its circuitry. The car arced off the road at 140 miles an hour and stopped dead in front of her. The confused driver barely had time to react as she pulled out her machine pistol and fired a quick spray through the front windshield. She opened the door and dumped the now dead young urban professional out chuckling to herself.

"My God, it's too easy."  

She sat in the driver's seat and adjusted the mirror as she hummed to herself. There was a briefcase in the passenger seat, she rolled down the window and hucked it out before pulling away. As she picked up speed she felt something rising in her that gave her an evil confidence. Oh yes, this was starting to feel right.

"I'm home bitches!" she shouted gleefully as she accelerated.

Sombra screamed down the highway. Her mind raced as she felt the manic energy continue to hit her. Her body surged with an incredible feeling of freedom. She owned Mexico, this was her turf. Memories of knocking over banks, jewelry stores and nightclubs in a drug fueled haze filled her head. She remembered gang banging with her friends covered in neon paint, carrying exotic weapons, moving in a wolf pack and owning the night. Sombra could walk naked through the streets and no one would touch her, she was Los Muertos, feared and respected. She had been missing the food and the style, she missed never sleeping, she missed getting sushi and not paying for it. It was all a twisted neon blur warmed by amphetamines and hard liquor.

She gunned the accelerator and pushed the car harder. The first thing she needed was drugs. There was a place in Mexico City she wanted to pay a visit... 

 

* * *

 

It was 3 in the morning, no customers had come in for hours. Marco, an unfortunate looking soul with bad nerves, a round haircut and dull eyes, was running literally the seediest joint imaginable in Mexico City: a porn, liquor, and convenience store that sold illegal drugs on the side. Suddenly, there was a the sound of pulsing hover coils outside as someone triple parked their sports sedan. The door opened with a jangle and a woman dressed in a purple trench coat stepped in drawing a machine pistol.

Marco's mind reeled. _No..._   _there's no way its her._ But even without her tattoos and with the new side shave, she was unmistakable.

"S-S-Sombra, I h-h-haven't seen you in years! W-W-What are you doing here?"

She stepped up to the counter and leveled the gun at his head.

"M-M-Marco," she said, cruelly mocking his stutter, "I'm collecting on your debt."

"T-That was so long ago, y-you're not still mad?"

"Heh," she muttered. Sombra swung her legs up and posed herself on the counter then looked at the bewildered man affectionately. "Tell me Marco, do I look mad to you?"

"N-N-No," he stammered, "w-wait, yes!"

She pushed the gun against his head. He cowered eliciting a perverse smile from Sombra. It felt good to be back.

"OK, let's get this done, give me the goods." She gestured for him to come up. "Come on," she gently coaxed. Marco slowly arose. "Do it now!" she menaced.

"O-OK!" he got up faster and opened the cashier drawer.

"Marco, Marco, Marco, you know me, that's probably why you are literally pissing your pants right now," she said with an air thick with condescension, "you know what I can do to you..." Suddenly, she grit her teeth and hit the gun against his head. "Have I ever cared about the piss for money you make at your fake ass store?!" she shouted.

"No! No! Of course, you want drugs."

"Oh, would you look at that, you're cured."

The doorbell jangled as a large hairy man in a trucker hat entered. Sombra leveled her gun at him.

"Not now, we're busy," she said tersely.

He tipped his hat and backed out.

"Now, where were we? Oh yeah, open the safe." She reached behind the counter and took a black plastic bag. "And put three bricks of cocaine in here."

"S-Sombra, we don't have a safe..."

"Like hell you don't, you think I'm dumb, motherfucker?" she said shaking her gun at him, "I will put money down you're running this garbage joint the same as 5 years ago!"

Sombra's eye's narrowed. She'd just about had enough of Marco. He stared back at her fearfully. Sensing her impatience, he folded.

"OK, fine," he knelt and fiddled with something below the counter. After a moment he emerged and plopped down a brick of cocaine.

Sombra raised an eyebrow.

"Man, you still know how to piss me off. Hold on while I get some things."

Sombra got down and paced around the store with her machine pistol, tapping the length of the barrel against her temple nonchalantly as she shopped line of sight.

"And don't even think about reaching for that shotgun."

The store serviced a Los Muertos neighborhood and thus had an ample supply of yellow neon paint and hair dye. She picked some up along with a large handle of tequila and plopped them on the counter.

"Let's see, cocaine, liquor..." her eyes scanned the checkout display, "VCR head cleaner?" She laughed. "Tisk tisk, Marco, its the 2070's, who owns a VCR?"

Marco shrugged and smiled nervously. Sombra grabbed a handful and put them in her bag. Slowly, she began to chuckle to herself. Marco continued to eye her nervously as her laughter grew. He shifted. Soon she was laughing hysterically. Marco joined her laughter out of some neurotic impulse and soon they were both in fits.

Suddenly, the gun was back on Marco's head.

"What's so funny?"

"I-I-I dunno."

Sombra cocked her head and looked curiously at the man. It bewildered her how someone could be so stupid.

"Let's give you a reason to laugh, huh?"

Sombra took a vial of the VCR head cleaner with her free hand then twisted the top off with her fingertips and handed it to Marco.

"Go on, take a hit."

"What?"

"Do it!" she threatened. His eyes shifted. This would not be good for his limited brain cells but he had no choice but to comply. "That's it, nice deep breaths," coaxed Sombra.

He inhaled the fumes. With each snort the world became quite a bit more silly. Marco's laughter started up again.

"Idiot," muttered Sombra as she gripped the bag and started for the door.

"H-Hey, where you going?" he said giggling. "We're even right?" he called after her.

Sombra had already stepped out. He giggled to himself for a moment before inhaling more fumes. It briefly occurred to him that he should warn people Sombra was back but the thought was fleeting.


	4. Chapter 4

Sombra stepped into the chaos and din of the largest Los Muertos squat in Mexico City. It was a bizarre scene, some kind of unholy combination of fraternity culture, left-wing militarism and indigenous community. In truth, unsupervised Los Muertos gangsters shared many of the same socialization habits as hyenas. Immediately she was flanked by a pair of well-muscled Los Muertos goons. Sombra looked around, there were no women besides prostitutes. No FLN or EZLN operatives, no one who looked like they had political education. She was up for grabs by some strange coda.

"Nice hair, can I play with it?"

Sombra played coy. "You like it? Come closer."

The goon leaned in. She caressed his face and he gave a dumb chuckle.

"I like her," he said.

With a swift calculated motion she stuck the nail of her index finger under his right eye then applied leverage and stepped forward. He was forced to step back in a painful waltz. He could feel it ready to pop out.

"Touch me and you lose it. Got it?" He stared back in fear. The other goon took a step for Sombra but she pushed her finger further into her victim's head causing him to gesture to stand down. "I asked you a question, asshole" she said taking another step.

"Yes! No, don't do it, please!"

After taking one more step for good measure, she yanked her finger out with a twisting motion and he fell to the floor wailing as he held his face, desperately pushing against his eye to keep it in. The other goon rushed to his side.

"Don't be a baby," she said stepping by them, "anyone else want to touch me?"

The odd collection of punks, thugs, orphans, transients, con-artists, prostitutes, addicts and so on shook their heads as the thug wailed on in the background.

"Who's in charge here?" asked Sombra.

"No one's in charge, we're anarchists."

"Shut up!"

"Bronson's in charge."

The room went silent.

"Well, could one of you assholes go get him for me?" They shifted and averted their eyes not wanting to take responsibility. She grabbed a teenager sitting against the wall by the collar. "Today?!"

"OK OK! Damn," he said.

He disappeared from the squat's common room into its labyrinthine hallways and returned with Bronson lumbering in tow.

"This better be good, I was in the middle of-." He looked at Sombra in amazement. "Sombra? Is that you? You haven't aged, I'm all fucked in! Well, I still have my muscles but damn! You look amazing! What happened to your tattoos?"

"New job demanded I take them off," she huffed, "you seem happy to see me."

"It's been a long time, you were, what? 26 when they took you away? I thought you were dead."

"Don't remind me."

When Sombra knew him, Bronson was a towering well-muscled man with a handlebar mustache. He was like a Latino version of his nom-du-guerre's infamous name sake. In the time since they'd last seen each other he had gained weight and let his head and facial hair grow out. He'd lost his vintage hipster look and was in decline. His eyes were glassy with depression.

"You're not happy to see me?" he asked.

"What happened to this place?"

The squat was one of Sombra's haunts in the past, it was a hub of crime, political activity, culture and activism. Back in the day it was the site of the intersection between the criminal underworld and insurrectionary politics. Bronson shrugged.

"The government cracked down. It hasn't been easy. We have a lot of people to help."

Sombra nodded towards the writhing thug. Bronson immediately comprehended what had taken place.

He sighed. "That's been a problem. He had it coming."

"What are you senile? You let that go on here? I ought to kill you."

"Not when I'm aware, no."

Sombra glared at him. This state of affairs really pissed her off. 

"I need men for a job, a lot of them. I'm planning something big. They'll be paid."

Bronson nodded. "That'll be tough but I'll send the word out, how many do you need?"

"60."

"What? I can give you 25 at most."

"Make rounds to the other squats, send the word out to every Los Muertos in Mexico City."

"That will be hard with the holiday..."

"Hard? That should make it easy." Sombra cocked her head impatiently. "What do you have planned for Dia de Los Muertos?"

Bronson shrugged. "Nothing," he admitted.

Sombra began to throw a tantrum. She cursed and kicked the wall.

"What in the fuck is going on here? We have less than a week to make this work!"

"Make what work?" asked Bronson.

"A revolution, dumbass! How am I supposed to get this done with no guerrillas?!"

"You want drugs, guns, prostitutes whatever we can supply that but we haven't been able to mobilize like that since last year. We're not ready for an action of that scale"

"Great, I'll call you up when I need my fix. Then I can end up like these assholes." She gestured towards the Los Muertos junkies and spit. "You're supposed be making revolutionaries out of them not let them wallow in drug fueled bender like this is some crackhouse brothel."

"Like you're such a shining example, Sombra. You left. You were never good with organizing. Hell, neither was I. But I think you hated it. You don't even have your tattoos anymore. Not to mention your drug habits."

Sombra's drug habits... He had a point. She calmed down.

"OK, so I'll take thirty." She turned towards the miscreants lining the walls of the squat. "Any of you bums interested in some action, huh? Wanna make history? Want to be a revolutionary?"

"Nyaah shut up!"

"Of-fucking-course," said Sombra, "nice crowd you got, real winners. What happened to the activists, the workers, militants? You know, the _compañeros?_ We had artists, teachers, and fucking lawyers. Hell, I even miss those insufferable philosophy students. I got them to hold up a bank even if they pissed themselves."

"Sombra, you left and they left. I don't know what to tell you. We tried our hardest to break you out of prison but when you got out you disappeared."

"So this is my fault? You somehow became in charge of this dump in Mexico City and have personally let it go to shit."

The two glared at each other. Their argument was getting nowhere. Bronson sighed. "You have the plan, Sombra. You always did. If you can turn this around that's great but this is what we got."

Sombra had to accept the facts. Los Muertos was all but destroyed after last year's uprising.

She rolled her eyes.

There was something else.

"What is it?" asked Bronson.

"I need a place to stay."

He laughed. "You want to crash in this dump? With these bums?"

"Oooooohh, what?" shouted someone in the peanut gallery.

"Yeah," she said then exhaled impatiently, "I do."

"Why didn't you say so?"

 

* * *

 

_The next day_

The situation was bad for Los Muertos all over the city. The squats used to feature an eclectic mix of radicals from feminists, to environmentalists, to socialists and communists, anarchists, indigenous people, radical Christians preaching liberation theology. There were all-female skate crews, Okupa Che, political lesbians, queer communists, musicians, artists, LGBTQANO folk of all types. The tension had always been between the gang's underworld and political elements. Their coalition was often called 'incoherent' by journalists. It was looking like the underworld had won out.

She'd slept in Bronson's bed. Being the de facto leader had its perks. He made sure that everything ran smoothly: that the cops were bribed, the drugs flowed freely, fights didn't happen, things weren't stolen, and girls weren't harassed. Back in the day, when the squat was a show space, he managed the business. Thus, he had a bed since nobody else did those things.

Sombra awoke in the drafty room. She'd uncharacteristically curled up into Bronson since he was the nearest warmest thing. She delicately moved his massive hand off of her and swung her feet off the bed. Immediately she kicked over several liquor bottles.

" _Meirda,_ " she muttered.

Bronson stirred. She traipsed over the debris in the messy room and stepped into the hallway. Punk music played softly from a nearby room. Sombra was starving, she'd drank herself to sleep without eating. She made her way to the kitchen. The fridge was empty. The pantry was empty. _Degenerates_.

She stepped out for some food and returned to meet a line of about 10-15 miscreants. They looked mostly like punks and squatters, dressed with patchwork leather jackets, black skinny jeans and combat boots.

"We heard what you said about us."

"Yeah, we're not losers."

Sombra munched on her burrito.

"Oh yeah?" she said with her mouth full, "prove it."

They eyed each other.

"Go on, tell her," someone murmured in the line.

The smart one stepped forward.

"We want to help with the action you're planning. A lot of us lost friends, brothers and sisters last year in the uprising. Many of us grew up without moms or dads or were orphaned in the war anyways. We want something better."

She took a bite and raised an eyebrow.

"Do you know how to shoot a _gun_?" she asked.

Even with her mouth full her incredulity was palpable. He spit in front of her.

"Yeah, we know how to shoot guns."

"I can learn," someone murmured.

"Who's over 18?"

About a third of them raised their hands. Sombra inspected their faces. They were practically babies, wiry scrappy teenagers with dyed and chopped hair and all manner of facial piercings and plugs. They had no idea what they were in for.

"Are you ready to die?"

The line murmured approvingly.

"Hell yeah, we're ready to die," asserted the smart one.

"OK, kiddos, your education in the urban guerrilla concept starts now." She put one hand on her hip and tossed the rest of her burrito. A squat dweller immediately picked it up and ate it. She eyed him conspicuously before continuing.

"First step, wear some jeans you can fucking run in."

"Fuck you."

"Fuck you back," said Sombra, "Next step, do exactly as I say."

The line hissed.

"Don't like it? Kill yourself," she replied.

"What else?"

"If you rat on me or even talk to the cops, I will personally find you and gut you. They'll find you hanging from a meat hook. That's it, now let's get you some guns..."

 

* * *

 

_Later that day..._

Bronson emerged from his room and saw what appeared to be a teenage boy carrying an automatic rifle patrolling the hallway. He hadn't seen him before, new people had been coming in all day. Sombra's message was getting out.

"Where did you get that?" he asked.

"Sombra," the boy shrugged.

Bronson stepped into the common area and saw Sombra addressing a group of 20 or so people sitting cross legged. Each held a loaded assault rifle. There was no way this could be good. He stepped to Sombra's side as she lectured and tapped on her shoulder.

"Hey, Sombra, let's chat," he said sternly.

"I'll be a second _compañeros._ "

He brought her aside.

"I didn't think I'd find you immediately violating the Geneva convention when you got here."

Sombra scoffed. "Like you care."

"I said I'd get you people so I'm getting you people, what are you doing?"

"I'm looking around and I don't see your men so I'm _aggressively recruiting_. Got it?"

Bronson put his hands on his hips.

"As a matter of fact, I'm little iffy on the details. Who are you working for again? It's not for Los Muertos."

She hushed him and beckoned him around a corner.

"I'm working for Talon," she admitted.

"What? What the hell are you promising them?"

"They want Portero gone. I have plans for an action on Dia de Los Muertos. We don't have much time."

"You have a plan?"

"Yeah, I have a plan, I always have a plan. I'm getting dirt on Portero I'm gonna leak it before the holiday."

"Then what?"

"You really want me to tell you my whole plan now?" He nodded impatiently and she rolled her eyes. "OK, so like it's still coming together. But it goes like this: we break the leak, the crowds come out for the festival along with protesters, we incite a riot, the cops will show up, etc..."

"Etcetera? What the hell happens afterwards?!"

"I don't know! We take control, we arm the crowd, we march them to the Los Pinos and the National Palace..."

"And then?"

"We blow them up."

Bronson reckoned for a moment.

"Well, it's not a good plan but it is a plan. What do you want the guerrillas for?"

"To lead the charge and hold up the police. This will be a push and pull momentum thing. Once the crowd gets going they can't slow down until they reach their targets."

Bronson rubbed the top of his head as he mulled the whole thing over.

"Go talk to your 'students' while I convince myself this isn't suicide."

Sombra returned to regale the group with her reckless notions of revolutionary praxis. When she was finished she ordered them to spread the word that Los Muertos was planning something for October 31.


	5. Chapter 5

Sombra sat moodily at a giant wooden spool that served as a table in the squat-house common room with her handle of tequila and brick of coke. She tapped slowly on her haptic keyboard, pausing every now and then to take a swig of her drink. The Los Muertos transients stared at her as she worked enigmatically. It looked like nothing but she was actually putting the finishing touches on an action that had coordinated the efforts of a small army of hackers for weeks. Now she had all the dirt on Portero she needed.

Sombra got up, stretched and walked to Bronson's room. She knocked on his door and heard him snort awake. He came to the door.

"We're being watched," she said flatly.

"What? By who?" he said in a hushed voice.

"I have my suspicions, it's not the police or another gang. They have a sophisticated electronic signature. Anyone giving you trouble lately?"

"Yeah, some soldier, says that Los Muertos is a cancer and that this is his turf. He's been hunting us"

Sombra scoffed. "Is that right? You want him to stop bothering you?"

"What do you think?"

Sombra cracked her knuckles. "Watch this."

 

* * *

 

Jack Morrison watched the Los Muertos gangsters through a busted skylight. He'd been spying on the Talon agent that had entered their midst. Nothing good could come from Los Muertos and Talon cooperating. Suddenly, there was a crackle over his voice com as his vision went out. Scrolling text replaced his screen. They looked like emails but they were in Spanish, Jack couldn't made heads or tails of them. It was the start of a sensory assault.

At that moment, a horrific screeching sound pierced his ears. His tactical visor was compromised. The sound was excruciating. Jack quickly became disoriented as he struggled to pull the visor off. He stumbled and tripped. He heard a crash through the piercing electronic noise and, with horror, realized he was falling.

_Thud!_

A puff of cocaine dusted the room. Jack had landed on his back right in the center of the spool. He scrambled to get his visor off. With a decisive pull he finally managed to wrench it off in time to see the Talon agent approach.

"Well, well, well," said Sombra swaggering towards him, "I thought I smelled a spy."

"You punks..." said Jack disdainfully as he scrambled into a defensive position.

Sombra tapped on her lips thinking as he was surrounded by Los Muertos.

"Hey, Bronson, it's been a while. What do we do with spies?"

He spit.

"People's court."

Bronson and several Los Muertos punks went for him. Jack put up a good fight as Sombra watched with an evil grin. The room cheered on the violence. Despite Jack's strength, there were too many and he was quickly subdued. The eclectic punks and gangsters bound and tied his hands. A team of thugs hoisted him up by his arms and soon he was hanging from the rafters. A skinny punk emerged from the crowd.

"You killed my best friend," he said with neurotic intensity holding a knife to Jack's face.

The punk jabbed the knife into Jack's kidney and the room broke out in cheers.

Sombra began to speak and they were quieted.

"You're lucky, Jack, our movement is democratic. You get to witness what real justice looks like," said Sombra watching him dangle with amusement. Jack's eyes widened. "Yeah, you heard me correctly, _Jack Morrison_. Don't think that Talon doesn't know about you," said Sombra with a chuckle. "So what do you have to say for yourself, huh? Now's your chance."

"Hey, Sombra, take it down a notch, I'm in charge here," said Bronson. He stepped up to Jack. "You've been killing my men for months now, _hombre_. My girls are afraid to go out," he said as if he were confiding in him. The crowd murmured in agreement. "So, what she said, what do you think you're doing out there, man?"

"You're all criminals, you make life miserable for normal people. I do what the law can't. I defend innocent people by taking people like you down."

"I think you misunderstand our little project, _gabacho_ ," said Bronson faking a reasonable tone, "we are 'normal people.' Crime in Mexico is a fact of life. Other gangs, less political gangs, get a fat check from the government if they leave the politicians alone. We want a better system."

"Spare me, you think you're innocent, peddling drugs and trafficking women? I've seen you thugs rob and murder innocent people. You're deluded."

"I don't think you know the 'law' you're standing up for, _amigo_. You should learn about our country. You think we'd sell drugs or ourselves if we could get a good job or education? You think the people here just want to be bad? Listen, _hombre_ , the police rape and murder native women. Activists and journalists disappear all the time, they gun down protesters in the streets. We don't know the news because journalists are afraid to do their jobs so they spoon feed us bullshit. Portero is a dictator. The government is the problem, _señor_. We’re protecting ourselves and trying to make a living."

"I don't have to justify myself to the likes of you, I've made my choice."

"Bad choice, _amigo_. That was your chance to defend yourself," said Bronson. He turned to the crowd. "I think he thinks he's better than us. What do the people think?"

The room boo'd. Sombra smirked, it was about to get violent again.

"Sorry, Jack," she said, "looks like the people have spoken."

They took him down and let out their repressed rage and fear on his body. Jack had persecuted them for months and they were thirsty for revenge. The sight was unsettling as the mob had their way with his limp body. Sombra watched with satisfaction for a time before retiring to Bronson's room to continue her work. By the wee hours the Los Muertos were exhausted and drunk on revenge. Unspeakable things had been done to Jack.

When the crowd was done, his apparently lifeless body had been dragged to a corner where teenage punks threw broken bottles at him for hours. However, even they grew bored and slept.

 

* * *

 

Sombra awoke feeling Bronson's clothed boner against her butt and one of his heavy arms resting over her body. He was kind of squishing her. She found this arrangement somewhat offensive.

"Hey, B," murmured Sombra, "B, wake up." She exhaled impatiently. "B, wake up! You're fucking squishing me!"

"What?!" he said bleary eyed, "oh, sorry Sombra, used to sleeping alone these days."

He shifted. Sombra was unbelievably beautiful sleeping there in her underwear. There was no doubt that he had cheated a little while he was asleep and had managed to wind up touching her in ways that would be impossible if she was awake. It had put her in a bad mood.

"Uh huh, sure. And get that thing off my butt, I never want to feel that again as long as I live."

"Jesus, Sombra, its not that bad," he said rolling to the side, "girls seem to like it."

"I'm not 'girls'."

She put on her purple and black body suit and stepped into the squat common room.

It was the early afternoon. The room was a mess from the chaos of last night. A black and white stray dog had wandered in and was sniffing around the debris. Some punks talked among themselves.

"Hey," Sombra interrupted, "where the hell is Jack's body?" They collectively shrugged. "Nobody knows where it is? You didn't do something with it? What did he get up and just leave while no one was looking? Is he Christ?"

The punks shook their heads and said they didn't know. A hot feeling suddenly overcame Sombra's head. She stormed back into Bronson's room to rip into him.

"Where the fuck is Jack?"

"He's not out there?"

"No, asshole. You let him get away!"

"I thought people would handle it! I thought he was dead!" he said putting his hands against his head, "how could anyone survive that?! Maybe someone did something with the body."

"God damn it, Bronson!" She stamped her foot and made her way back to the common room. "So, none of you saw him or know's where he is?!"

When no one responded Sombra kicked the dog as she gave a long shout of "Fuck!" The stray yipped and cowered away. The Los Muertos stared at her as she cursed and made a scene. After a short while she appeared to calm down.

Sombra sat at the spool table. Both the handle of tequila and the remnants of the brick of cocaine were still there—a sign that she was decently respected by the Los Muertos. She took a long swig of her tequila then wrapped up a bill and carved a slice out of the cocaine. She sat back with her eyes closed and let her head hang over the back of the chair.  _OK, this isn't a problem,_ she thought to herself.

She lifted her head and spoke coolly. Her voice was subdued as the chemicals hit her. "OK, so we'll find him..."

 

* * *

 

_Later..._

They scoured the area around the squat. The undisciplined Los Muertos quickly gave up from boredom and lack of motivation. However, the primary cause was that no one believed he could possibly still be alive. Sombra came upon a dumpster near the squat with the body of the young punk who had stabbed Jack the night before. Jack had definitely escaped.

She set the dumpster alight.

Last night she'd uploaded the fruits of her Lumérico hack into Jack's visor. Sombra weighed the odds that the new Overwatch would interfere with her plans. Jack might be a persistent problem but no one who read those emails could think that Portero was worth defending.

Last night had been good, she'd won over the gang a little by delivering them Jack. If he was still alive he would think twice about harassing Los Muertos. At least, that's what she told herself.

For now, this would have to slide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never trust anyone who mistreats a dog.


	6. Chapter 6

Sombra waited for Lucio at Juarez Airport in a black and purple romper and clubman sunglasses she'd stolen on the way there. As Lucio and Hana emerged from the line of departing passengers Hana locked eyes with her.

"I'm gonna kill her."

Hana dropped her carry-on and pushed through the people in front of her preparing to charge. Sombra tapped on her haptic keyboard grinning when she caught Hana mid-charge at the corner of her eye. It was too late. Sombra was tackled. The crowd cleared the fight zone.

"You psychotic bitch! How could you do this to me?!" she shouted wildly punching at Sombra.

"Ahh! Lucio get her off!"

"Why should I?" he replied coolly.

 

" _La mierda?_ I don't know! Because you want to? What is this?" said Sombra struggling with Hana's fists.

"I let you off easy last time!" shouted Hana.

TSA personnel moved in and pulled the crazed Korean gamer off Sombra.

"She's lost it," murmured Sombra.

"That's a normal reaction for someone who's had their privacy violated, Sombra," said Lucio putting his hands on his hips.

A TSA officer helped Sombra off the ground. "This happens again and you'll all be detained," the officer warned.

"Yeah, detain her," said Sombra under her breath as she brushed herself off. "Damn, you're not happy to see me?"

"Oh my God, it's like she doesn't know what she's done," said Hana exasperated.

"Right, the phone. But I had to do that. Besides, it's temporary," she explained innocently, "No? That doesn't work for you?"

Hana's eye twitched.

Lucio stepped in. "Uh, Sombra, I think the less you say to Hana the better. Let's just get this done."

Sombra blinked. No, she didn't know why Hana was angry. She liked them so why didn't they like her? Sombra was awful with people.

" _Aye yaie yaie_ , just keep her off me."

At that moment the intercom dinged on. "Would the owner of the purple luxury sedan with the um... bullet holes please move their car to a designated parking area. You are parked illegally and are blocking the flow of traffic..."

They walked outside and met Lucio's staff. They stood waiting for him with a sign bearing his name. Behind them was a tour bus prominently featuring Lucio's frog marquee.

"I thought you were in the middle of a rebrand," said Sombra noticing the bus.

"Naw, I'm keeping the frog logo, its got recognition. Besides, you have your skull."

"Yeah, but the skull is good."

Lucio rolled his eyes. "OK, Sombra," he said with mild annoyance.

"I like it," Hana stated coolly.

"Thank you, Hana."

Lucio's booking agent and tour manager approached to meet them. The rest of his crew stood behind them as the managers of the business-end shook hands and introduced each other.

"Hana, Sombra, meet Olivia Álvares."

She was a sleek looking professional woman of quarter German and Portuguese descent resembling a Brazilian Taylor Swift. She wore an expensive pleated dress and was an exhausting combination of MBAs, networking, conference calls, professional emails, corporate pads, and business etiquette.

"Pleasure," she said with a practiced smile, "Hana, its wonderful to meet you, I'm so happy for you two."

Hana eyed her somewhat suspiciously as she extended her hand. She did not like the attractive older women Lucio worked with.

"Yeah, thanks, its like a fantasy," she replied as she grasped Olivia's manicured hand.

Lucio shut out the hostility with some combination of willful ignorance and blind positivity. "Olivia is the machine, she'll keep this party in line," he said with a grin.

"And you are?" asked Olivia skeptically, giving Sombra the up and down.

Sombra had been spacing out at the frog. God, she hated the frog. She snapped to.

"Who me? Who's asking?" she asked giving her the stink eye.

Lucio quickly played interference.

"She's, uh, handling security."

Olivia raised one of her manicured eyebrows at this claim.

"She helped me with Doug Kelleher," he added, speaking through his teeth at the mention of Doug.

"Oh! Oh..." Olivia replied somewhat flustered, the second 'Oh' having the tenor of grim understanding, "Sombra, well it's great to have you with us. I can't thank you enough for what you did."

She cleared her throat.

"Anyways, I'll introduce you to the rest of the crew..."

 

* * *

 

Lucio shook hands and conversed briefly with the tour crew, generally being his likable charismatic self at them before they boarded the bus. Lucio consorted in Portuguese with Olivia as Hana and Sombra sat across from each other in a state of extreme tension that was only surpassed by competing nuclear powers. Hana glowered at Sombra.

"I hate you more than anything in the whole world," she said.

Sombra was silent for a long moment. "Lucio didn't say you would be coming on this trip."

"I asked to come."

"Yeah?"

"To stop whatever you're doing," she said with cold anger.

Sombra half-smiled. "Cute. Don't you get it? You're out of your league. Just let it pass, it will be so much easier."

Hana pounded her fist on the table. "Don't underestimate me." Sombra sighed impatiently at this. "He's my boyfriend. Whatever you're planning won't go through unless I want it to," Hana threatened, pointing her finger at Sombra.

"Oh, you think this is just about me?" said Sombra raising an eyebrow, "my country is in a state of violent occupation. I and a lot of other people are trying to end that. If you try to stop what I'm doing you'll have to deal with more than just me. _Comprende?_ "

Sombra blew Hana off, stood and sauntered towards Lucio. "Hey, business Barbie, can I borrow him?"

Lucio looked at her aghast. "What is your damage, Sombra?"

Olivia huffed and waved the back of her hand impatiently at Lucio. "Go talk," she said before promptly turning her attention to her phone.

Sombra pulled Lucio aside to a private corner of the bus. "Hey, how much does that _chica_ know?"

"The gist."

"The 'gist,' huh?" she said then sucked on her teeth. "You fuck her?"

"What? No? Well, before I was with Hana, we had a date..."

A sly smile grew on Sombra's face.

"So, you wanted to but didn't."

"No, we—." He stopped himself.

Sombra eyed Lucio skeptically as he squirmed.

"Uh-huh, OK _cabron_. So here's the deal, get Hana with the program, I'm trying to avoid a 40 year long guerrilla war and I'm the bad guy."

"She's not very political, in her country revolutionaries are scary communists. 100 years of the threat of nuclear annihilation and you start to think they’re the bad guys. Does that make sense?"

Sombra blinked. No, she didn't know what he meant. To her North Korea was defending itself fighting Western imperialism.

"Nope. Scary communists, huh? So, what does she think about you?"

"I'm different."

"Well, set her straight,  _pendejo!_ " said Sombra hitting him on the leg.

Lucio approached Hana who was stewing sitting with her arms folded.

"Um, Hana..."

"She put you up to this, I'm not listening."

"Hana, baby, it is very important that you let Sombra do what she has to do. I know it's crazy but for once she's doing the right thing."

"Uh, hello? You said it yourself, she's a crazy terrorist!"

"Yeah, but, listen, people have it rough here. She's just trying to do what I did in my country."

"Why are you talking to me like I'm a child? You're being manipulated by her! It's so obvious!"

Lucio grit his teeth.

"Look, I know I'm being manipulated, but that's not the point. Sombra has her methods, I don't agree with them but this time they're for a good cause. The fact is, I would have agreed to do this anyway," he turned to Sombra, "in fact, the only reason I almost said no was because it was her."

"I knew you wanted to cop out!"

"We don't really know what's going to happen," said Lucio pragmatically, "but I'll do what I can to help the people who want to change this country for the better. If that means getting the word out about the crimes of their government I'll do it."

Hana buried herself further in her seat folding her arms even harder before suddenly sitting up in exasperation.

"Fine! Do it! What do I care? It's not my country."

Olivia's ears had been ringing throughout the conversation. She strut over during the pause and inserted herself. "OK, so want to let me in on your plans?"

"Olivia, I..."

"Oh man," said Sombra patting Lucio hard on the back, "the women in your life! Good luck _cabron_!"

 

* * *

 

They arrived at a hotel not far from the venue and checked in. Sombra and Lucio chatted in his room after they unpacked.

"Can she keep a secret?" asked Sombra.

"I pay Olivia well, so yes."

"—Because I will kill her if I have to."

Lucio squared his jaw and gave her a sidelong look. Sombra recognized that he only did this when he was very annoyed.

"Hey, OK, she's good," said Sombra throwing up her hands, "she just looks rich and white, I don't trust rich white people..."

"Don't talk to her, don't touch her, don't even think about her. I know what you're thinking," he warned, wagging his finger at her.

Sombra smiled wolfishly. "Why Lucio, whatever do you mean?" She waved her hand dismissively. "She's out of my league, anyways."

Hana approached Lucio from behind and wrapped her arms around his neck. He looked up at her and they kissed briefly.

"So, Sombra, it's getting late and we have a long day ahead. We had better get ready for bed," said Lucio in a coy tone.

Sombra tapped on the table impatiently a few times.

"OK, so where am I sleeping?"

"We figured you'd get your own room," said Hana with vengeful eyes.

Sombra blinked. Shit. She hadn't planned for this.

In a second she found herself outside as the door locked.

"Fuck you guys, I have a place to stay!"

Never mind that it was many miles away and she'd be squished under Bronson's lard and Volkswagen sized biceps. She heard Hana giggle from behind the door. Sombra was sexiled. What an offense, Sombra sexiled people not the other way around.

She sighed and happened to notice Olivia walking up the hall on her phone.

"Ey, Olivia!" she shouted.

Olivia gave her the finger and slipped into her room.

"OK, I don't need to sleep anyways..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea why but I love writing dialogue for Lucio, Hana and Sombra. I always feel bad that Hana often gets shown up by Sombra but I feel like this is the one area of her life where things aren't easy and she's not the best at everything.


	7. Chapter 7

_The next day_

The guerrillas arrived. They were pulled off of the front lines from a three-way fight with the Los Zetas, the Sinaloa Cartel and the Mexican military. Many of them had fought with or were themselves Zapatistas. They looked war-weary, battered and tired. The squat was silent as they watched them trickle in. Sombra stared at the people in the room in awe of their stupidity.

"Fucking clap! These men are heroes!" shouted Sombra.

There was forced and scattered applause.

"Get them water, get them anything they ask for!" she yelled, "fuck!" She clapped her hands impatiently when no one budged. "Move it!"

Finally, they moved.

Bronson emerged from his room to watch Sombra trying to get her young would-be revolutionaries to act in a vaguely disciplined way.

"Look at you," he scoffed, "should I get you a little cap maybe a pipe? It might help."

"Back off. I though you were going to get me people from the city. You know? People who know urban warfare."

"This is what we've got, Sombra. It's not like the old days."

"It really isn't..."

The last of about 25 soldiers trickled in.

"You've been holding out on me B. You must be pretty highly ranked in Los Muertos to get these men," noted Sombra.

He chuckled. "We're horizontally governed by a revolutionary council of indigenous women, haven't you been reading the news?" he replied.

Sombra rolled her eyes. She'd forgotten the absurdity of Los Muertos politics.

"I thought we were a drug cartel."

Bronson laughed bitterly.

"I've missed you, Sombra."

"Fuck off, you're just in love with me."

Sombra stepped up to check out the men.

"Welcome, _compañeros_ ," she said in an attempt to be cordial.

The soldiers eyed her suspiciously.

"Who are you?" asked the platoon leader.

"I'm, uh, an adviser from Talon. I'm with you."

"Sure thing," he said skeptically, "who's in charge here?"

"I am. You'll listen to her lieutenant," said Bronson.

The lieutenant turned towards his men. They formed a circle and took a vote.

"We vote no, we won't take orders from her. But we will take orders from you _compañero._ "

Sombra's eye twitched and she shifted her foot.

"What?" she asked darkly.

"We were not informed of any Talon adviser," he said crossing his hands behind his back, "so, we will take her _advice_ into consideration but we will not take orders from her."

The squat denizens looked onward at the scene. Sombra's impressionable _revolucionitos_ murmured to themselves.

"That's not just anyone, _compañero_. That's Sombra," interjected Bronson.

The lieutenant looked at Sombra in bewilderment.

"My apologies. Your identity is a high secret, I hope the mistake is forgivable."

"You can call me Agent Sombra," she said twisting the screw.

The lieutenant's eyes shifted.

"I will call you _compañera._ "

"That's fair," she said extending her hand.

He paused for a moment to regard Sombra's person as if to get a sense of her character then took her hand firmly and pat her on the back as he shook it.

"My name is Miguel Loya, maybe you can tell me and my men why everyone has glowing skeleton tattoos before the holidays?"

Los Muertos in the country and rural areas was a far more organized communist indigenous movement that went by the more traditional Frente de Liberación National. "Los Muertos" in the press traditionally referred to the criminal underworld of the organization while "O-31 Movement" described either of the two elements. In truth, the FLN and the Los Muertos gang were economically closely related but ideologically and culturally very different. Years of battle and continuous political mobilization had disciplined the FLN while the lack of social inertia and the failure of the revolution in the city had caused Los Muertos to crumble.

"It's our sign," explained Sombra half-embarrassed, "it shows your loyalty to the cause."

"None of my men have such tattoos." Miguel frowned jokingly. "Might be a bit of a liability fighting in the dark. So, if they are for loyalty, where are yours?"

Sombra thought to try and explain herself. He smiled.

"I'm just kidding, _compañera_ ," he gave her another hard pat on the back, "we're all friends here, even Talon. Maybe you can explain what interest they have in our movement?"

"Talon wants Portero dead, I'm taking the opportunity to push what comes after in the right direction."

"That's interesting, _compañera_ ," said Miguel, "I know I asked but my men are tired. Where do we sleep in this... nice place."

"You just sleep wherever," said one of the squat denizens.

Sombra turned towards him with dagger eyes.

"Save yourself the embarrassment and speak when you are spoken to!" she snapped, "where's the smart one?"

The "smart one" emerged from crowd.

"You, take this card and buy thirty futons. If you spend the money on anything else I will murder you in your sleep."

"How do I get them back here?"

She shook her head in disappointment. Miguel blinked.

"You take the group and carry them. Understand?" asked Sombra impatiently. He nodded and took the card then started towards the door. "Where do you think you are going?"

"To get futons?"

"Are you robbing the place?"

"No..."

Sombra layered on the patience in a manner she was most unaccustomed to.

"Better leave your gun, _compañero_..."

He dropped the rifle where he stood and left. Sombra turned towards the rest of the _revolucionitos_.

" _Aye yaie yaie_. Are you deaf? Go with him!"

They quickly stood and made their way out muttering complaints as they passed.

Sombra turned her head to see if Miguel was looking. He quickly looked up at the ceiling.

"Sorry, _compañero_ , they think they're anarchists. They're a work in progress," explained Sombra.

"I didn't say anything..."

 

* * *

 

Sombra's pups came back with the futons and set up a sleeping area. The punks, drug heads and prostitutes watched them as they cleared the empty liquor bottles, wrappers and hypodermic needles off the floor and re-arranged the rotting furniture. Soon half the squat's common area was a barracks separated by a curtain. Sombra, Bronson and Miguel sat at the spool table discussing the plan.

At that moment a gang of about 6 Los Muertos gangsters strolled in.

"What happened to my house?" said the leader, a bald feral looking punk. "What happened to my trash? I liked my trash..."

Sombra exchanged glances with Miguel and Bronson.

"I don't want this here, I didn't say this could go up," he muttered.

The fellow traipsed over to the curtain and pulled it down revealing the three sitting at the spool.

"Ey, fucker, what do you think you are doing?" Sombra snapped.

"Redecorating..."

"Look around, do you have any idea who you're fucking with?"

He laughed. "You think I care?"

Sombra stood and sized him up. For Los Muertos gangsters the quickest way to establish authority was to be more violent than them. With a swift motion she grabbed his wrist and twisted him to the floor. The gang moved in on Sombra. Miguel got up to assist but Bronson beckoned him to sit back down.

A fat one charged from the left, she threw her translocator and teleported. He charged uselessly into the curtain, knocking it over and tangling himself as squat denizens scampered out of the way.

A girl who looked like a decrepit Marina Dias swung at her with a pipe. Sombra dodged then cloaked. The girl swang wildly in confusion. Suddenly, she was on her back as Sombra uncloaked and swept out her leg from under her. Sombra swept up the pipe as her victim recoiled. With a spin she thrust it into the jaw of an attacking goon. He was immediately floored. Quickly, she spun back, adjusting her grip and swinging the pipe into the temporal bone of another hapless goon. He twisted gracefully to the floor. The girl tried to scamper up but Sombra quickly scooped her legs out with the curve of the pipe and she was sent back to the floor. Sombra stepped on top of her and, with a cold blooded golf-swing, struck her in the side of the head.

She was out, maybe dead.

The fat one charged, seemingly out of nowhere, tackling her to the floor. Miguel again tried to help but again Bronson stopped him.

"You'll see," said Bronson with a sparkle in his eye, “she can handle herself.”

Sombra was on her back. She quickly threw her legs over his shoulders and pulled his head close clinching him in a triangle choke. Too late, he realized he was choking on his own bicep. He tried to pull her legs apart but he had no leverage.

"Help me!" he rasped.

The goons exchanged glances. He was out like a light in a few seconds. Sombra used her thighs to twist him to the ground as she stood.

"That's three," she said in a sing-song voice.

She picked up the pipe.

Unafraid, the leader cracked his neck and casually drew a knife. They exchanged glares, Sombra gave him a cocky smile. Suddenly, he charged her with a furious slash. Sombra blocked with her implement and gracefully stepped in as she dinged him on the top of the head. He dropped the knife and held his head in recoil. With his body unprotected Sombra swung and cracked his ribs. He slumped to the floor, dispatched.

"That's four."

Two left. A butch girl with a dreadlocks and a lanky shirtless dude. They looked at each other to gauge the other's commitment. Sombra sensed their hesitation and struck first. She charged and swung to take the head off the butch girl. She ducked and Sombra hit air. The lanky one went in to grab but Sombra twisted in the reverse direction catching him with a backhand swing to the ribs. He crumpled. The butch girl charged while Sombra was facing away from her and caught her with a rabbit punch. She stumbled forward disoriented.

Sombra turned her head in time to see the girl stepping in for another blow. She dropped and spun her body, swinging the rusty pipe at the girl's kneecaps. It connected with a sickening crack and she fell to one knee with a wail. Sombra stood above her smiling. It dawned on the poor girl at that moment, watching Sombra raise the pipe above her head with a smile, that Sombra loved violence. Mercilessly, Sombra began to hammer her repeatedly with the heavy pipe. The girl blocked with the length of her forearms but the pain was immense. She fell back as Sombra kept striking. When she could barely hold her arms up Sombra hit them aside decisively then brought the pipe down on her shoulder.

The dreaded girl was felled.

Sombra spit on her in contempt.

"That's for punching me in the back," she said hatefully.

Miguel would not be restrained any longer.

"Holy crap, was that necessary?" 

Sombra pulled the lanky one off the ground by his hair.

"Get up, fucker."

"Sombra, I asked you a question," said Miguel with a tone of worry.

Her eyes shifted and she scowled. Was he really going to have a problem with this? She let go of the punk's hair dropping him to the floor.

"Yes, it was necessary. Got a problem?"

"You're lucky I have a medic in my platoon," he said, "Antonio! Help these people."

Sombra was pumped with adrenaline. She stepped over the writhing bodies of the gangsters towards Miguel. The violence had piqued her.

"Listen, _compañero_ , I don't know how you do things on the farm but here, if someone challenges your authority, you fight them."

Miguel looked at Sombra in concern. He could tell she was hopped up. What kind of animal loved violence?

"We settle things with votes or tribal elders, people's courts if we have to. Los Muertos is democratic, the people decide."

Sombra flashed him bloody eyes. He really had no idea how they ran "people's court."

"Miguel, it is democratic. Your say is equal to how much power you have which is equal to how much violence you can do. You want something, you take it. Get it?"

He shook his head, every instinct told him it was hypermasculine nonsense.

"No, what kind of praxis is this? How is that a way to live your life? You'll die this way." 

Sombra shrugged indifferently. 

"I'd heard that Los Muertos had degenerated into a street gang. But now I believe it," Miguel continued, taking a judgmental tone, "you could have talked to him. He called this place his home, he had a right to be heard."

Sombra rubbed her hair impatiently.

"How do I explain this to you? The people who hang out here are like outcasts, rejects. They are like... a pack of adolescent lone wolves. You have to show them who the alpha is."

Miguel shook his head. Sombra gave a menacing smile.

"Consider this the first step in their 'theoretical formation.' They will listen to me now."

"I don't like this at all."

"Welcome to the underworld. This is what it's like when it comes to drugs, crime, prostitution. How do you think your operation is funded in the countryside?"

"I try not to think about it."

Sombra smiled and pat Miguel on the back.

"That's good, _compañero_. Keep doing that." She slinked away. "You two should talk more," she said gesticulating to Bronson as she backed out of the barracks area.

"Where are you going?" asked Miguel.

"I need to get fucked after a fight like that," she said lively as she bounced out.

She was gone.

"My God," muttered Miguel.

"She does this," Bronson noted.

 

* * *

 

_Later that day..._

Sombra force called Lucio's phone as she sat bare chested on Bronson's bed. Her conquest, a fit Afro-Mexican girl with a curly mowhawk, hipster stick-and-pokes and a nose ring lay next to her smoking a cigarette.

"Hey, Lucio... Lucio!" hissed Sombra.

"What the fuck? Oh hey, Sombra. Haven't had you completely violate my privacy in a while."

The girl took a drag from her cigarette. "Is that Lucio?" she asked. "Wow, the pop starrr," she said with a creaky voice.

Sombra ignored her.

"Is someone there with you?"

"No, don't worry about it," said Sombra dismissively.

"Olivia's wondering where the security staff you promised are."

"They're ready."

"OK then, so they'll be onsite tomorrow at 7 am?"

"Yes, they will."

"OK, good," he said firmly.

"OK then..."

Lucio glared at her impatiently.

"You tryna rush me, _cabron_?" she asked giving him a rank stink eye.

He sighed.

"No, I-"

"Because you're being weird," she interrupted.

"I'm with Hana," he explained, "we're, you know, trying to have sex."

Sombra chuckled.

"Well, carry on stud," she said, "mind if I watch?"

Sombra heard Hana wail and curse in Korean in the background.

"How do I turn this dang thing off?" murmured Lucio.

Sombra watched Lucio's face as he fiddled with the phone to no avail.

"I can't believe you just have Lucio, like, in your hand."

"It's about as great as you think it is," replied Sombra.

Lucio gave up after a few moments of genuine effort and hid the phone under the bed.

"Aww, audio only," said Sombra in disappointment.

She kept the feed active. In minutes they heard Hana moaning and sighing as Lucio grunted.

The girl laughed. "What?! That's what he sounds like having sex?!"

Suddenly a hand gripped the phone. The screen wobbled from the rapid movement and they caught confusing glimpses of Lucio's hotel room and thigh. Soon they were looking at the inside of a mini-fridge.

"He's being no fun," sighed Sombra.

"You are such a bad bitch," said the girl wrapping her arms around Sombra.

"Speaking of which," said Sombra peeling her hands off, "this is not my bed so unless you can find another place to stay, I'll need you to get out..."

Bronson and Miguel sat at the spool as they witnessed Sombra's hookup storm out cursing. The soldiers and Los Muertos transients swiveled their necks as the beautiful woman marched her way to the door. Not an hour ago they were listening to her coital cries. It was easy to guess what had taken place.

" _Compañero_ , what kind of woman are you entrusting my men to?" asked Miguel.

Bronson thought for a hard moment. Saying that Sombra was a remorseless nymphomaniac and manipulative sociopath with the moral development of a 9 year old bully was probably not the right thing to do.

"She said that the people here are like adolescent wolves. I think of her as a mama-wolf. She's loyal to her pack and defends her young but she has no higher principles. If you aren't one of us than you aren't a person to her."

Miguel shifted uncomfortably. Two of the Muertos thugs had severe concussions and possible brain injuries from strikes to the head. Sombra had broken the forearms and collarbone of the dreaded girl. Only the fat one got away with no broken bones.

"But she viciously attacked members of your gang," noted Miguel, "look, _compañero_ , I'm not worried about the action on the 31st as much as what comes after with her in control. I'm worried about my men hanging around all these drugs and loose women."

Bronson thought briefly about what Miguel meant. It was true, Sombra was a destabilizing influence.

"I'll talk to her."

Bronson entered his room. Sombra stood naked in the mirror painting on her Los Muertos tattoos.

"Sorry, I'll come back."

"No, you can stay," she said as she carefully drew the skeletal design on her body.

"Sombra, you're making people nervous."

She knew, it kept people on their toes. Bronson gathered that she didn't care.

"It is important to set a good exam-"

She turned. Bronson felt a sudden pang from looking at Sombra's naked body.

She knew it, he wanted her.

"Bronson, you know me. This is the way I am. I'm just doing things like we used to," she said in a sly tone before turning back to the mirror.

Bronson wagged his finger.

"You, you you," he said glaring at her, "you know what you are doing!"

Sombra hummed to herself.

"OK, whatever, _cabron._ "

"Don't you dare call me that."

She chuckled to herself and continued to work. Bronson stepped behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. He turned her around suddenly, catching her by surprise. She dropped her paint.

"You think you're the only one who can act without restraint?" he menaced as he gripped her.

Sombra looked fearful for a moment. Bronson watched the feeling of vulnerability hit her. She covered her body.

"OK, so what did I do?" she said betraying her resent.

"Miguel thinks you're crazy," he replied, "and you are, you just need to hide it for now. Everyone needs to be onboard. Make them feel comfortable."

 

* * *

 

Sombra burst out of Bronson's room and stretched.

"Ahh, feels good to be back"

Her hair had gone hot-pink with red accents. It was now done into a spiked mohawk. Her calavera designs glowed neon with her new Muertos body paint.

The room looked at her in awe. She looked savage, larger than life.

"Where are my babies?"

Sombra's revolutionary guard assembled in front of her. She beckoned them close and they formed a circle around her.

"Let's make our soldier friends feel comfortable, huh?" They nodded. "Who can buy liquor?" asked Sombra. A young Muertos punk volunteered. "Get lots," she said handing him her card. "Girls, y'all are good with tattoos?" The girls nodded. "Give our FLN friends some Los Muertos colors"

Sombra broke the circle and looked at the dingy room.

"No no no," she said, "this won't do at all. What a bunch of unhappy losers." She stood over a transient sitting against the wall. "You, why do you stay here?"

"I have nowhere else to go."

"Would you say you have fun here?"

"No."

Sombra frowned. "Well that sucks," she said kneeling down. "But that changes tonight so buck up," she said giving him a light slap on the cheek. "Hookers! I'm buying you all tonight!" announced Sombra, "everything is on the house. Have your way with the little sluts!"

Miguel stood up in outrage. Bronson stepped to Sombra and got in her face.

"Sombra, what are you doing? I told you to not be crazy!"

"I'm making our friends comfortable..."

Bronson sighed. "Fine, you deal with Miguel then."

He stepped aside.

Sombra sauntered over to Miguel. His cadre gathered behind him. He puffed out his chest and was ready to tell Sombra off. She preempted him.

"What? You're going to tell me I'm a shitty revolutionary?"

"In so many, words, yes."

Sombra, snapped her fingers and beckoned her underlings over. As they gathered she put her arms around their shoulders.

"These little bastards suck at following instructions but I bet they know how to party," she said, "come on Miguel, how long have your men been fighting? They could use a good time."

Sombra's squad murmured in concurrence. Miguel stood in silence. Sensing his hesitation, Sombra smiled and slinked towards him.

"What about you? A real live revolutionary fighting the government, a girl might find that impressive," she said running her nails along his cheek, "eh, _compañaro_?"

"Ooooohhh," called out Sombra's squad on cue.

He shifted uncomfortably. Sombra upped the ante and ran her nail up his leg and across his belt. He swallowed.

Sombra slinked back towards her crew and slung herself over their shoulders.

"Don't be such a communist."

"But I am a communist..."

Sombra's crew laughed.

He scanned the faces of Sombra's squad with their mismatched Los Muertos tattoos. They were young. The girls were pretty. Was that? No. Miguel noticed that several of the people she had attacked were in her group. Sombra was indeed the alpha.

He looked at his men, they waited with ambiguous expressions. They'd heard Sombra get laid for an hour and were sexually frustrated but they had no expectation Miguel would say yes. What was the harm again? Would this erode discipline? Some of his men were going to die in the coming days, if not all of them.

"OK, but this is the exception."

Sombra clapped and the group broke. "Very good! Now let's get some music! Where's that little fucker with the alcohol?"

Miguel fixed his cap and strut towards Sombra.

"So, you think I'm impressive, eh?"

Sombra turned. _Oops_ , she thought. She had him barking up the wrong tree. Sombra placed her hand on his chest.

"I said _a_ _girl_. I'm not a girl."

"Then what are you?"

Sombra slowly withdrew her hand and smiled with a coy look.

"La la laa," she sang as she floated away, "get yourself a _nice_ _girl,_ Captain."

"Lieutenant," he corrected.

He was flanked by two Los Muertos women of the night as Sombra swayed out the door.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty sure the google searches I made while writing this section got someone's attention.

_The next morning_

Sombra's men sat waiting in the parking lot outside the Plaza de Toros Mexico. They were hungover and had barely slept but were well laid and in good spirits. Some were still drunk. They had become full Los Muertos converts. An expensive looking hover car pulled up followed by several sleeper-buses filled with tour crew. Olivia stepped out of the back shielding her eyes from the morning sun. Lucio followed.

"Here we are," said Sombra in a dark singsong voice.

The Muertos behind her chuckled. Olivia scanned their faces with a look of horror.

"Lucio, may I have a word with you?" asked Olivia in Portuguese. She walked him back to the car at a rapid clip. "You're paying gangsters for concert security?! Like this hasn't been done before and isn't literally the worst idea ever! What do you owe this girl?"

"You know..." he said returning a grave expression.

Olivia exhaled impatiently.

"Don't drag me down with your nonsense, I have a great career!" she warned.

Lucio folded his arms.

"I want a raise," she said.

Sombra leaned on a lamppost as she eyed Lucio and Olivia talking. Miguel joined her.

"What's their problem?" he asked.

"Not sure..." she said narrowing her eyes. She turned to him and blinked. "Ah, Miguel, you have like a pubic hair on your lip."

Olivia and Lucio returned. Olivia addressed them in her hypercorrected Spain Spanish.

"Listen up, if there is one problem, if I find out any of you stole something or broke something or hurt someone you will be in jail so fast it will..." she was flustered, she wasn't used to speaking to gangsters, "s-so help me, it will be fast!"

The Muertos laughed and told her to shut up.

"Ingrates," Olivia muttered. "OK, so we have a lot of work to do. Now set up and make sure that... well, people like yourselves don't get in"

Sombra placed her hand on Miguel's back. "You can handle this right?" she asked.

"Yeah, we can handle this," he blustered.

"Good, I'll be back later today."

Sombra approached Lucio as he fiddled with his phone.

"Hey there, big shot," she said tapping him on the shoulder. He looked over his shoulder and jumped at the sight of her. "Whatcha doing with your phone?"

"Jesus," Lucio replied, recomposing himself, "you startled me with that face paint. I'm texting Hana."

Lucio cleared his throat and finished his text periodically glancing sidelong at her. Sombra was back in form as a Los Muertos _chola_. This was how she looked the first time he met her.

"Finicky things aren't they?" she said with a conniving smile. Sombra activated her haptic keyboard and tapped a few times. The phone went dark and began to execute several commands. Text streamed across the screen.

"What did you just do?" he cringed.

"Completed part one of our deal. You're almost off the hook."

"Yeah, but part two is what has me nervous."

Sombra thought for a moment.

"Hmm, I have nothing to say to that."

Bowling pins crashed in Lucio's head. This was portending not of doom but utter chaos. It meant Sombra had no idea what was going to happen.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, huh?" she said walking off.

"Where are you going?"

"I have a plan to remodel Los Pinos and the National Palace."

"I'm not even going to ask," said Lucio.

"That's what I like about you Lucio, you don't ask questions. You're a good guy."

 

* * *

 

Sombra arrived at the Los Muertos squat house to find its denizens in a drunken slumber. She hard clapped her hands until sleep was a distant fantasy.

"Hey, what is this? It's like Jonestown in here!" she shouted.

"Real original," someone griped.

"Where are my pups?"

She whistled and they begrudgingly assembled.

"OK assholes, how many of you know anything about bombs?" Sombra asked the assembled Los Muertos. They collectively scratched themselves and grumbled. After a moment, a ferine looking teenage boy raised his hand. Sombra pointed to him. "OK, one real revolutionary. The rest of you? No? Never made a pipe bomb? OK, chemistry, anyone get that far in school?" A girl with a sullen look on her face raised her hand. "Right, that's two. How about just physical science? Anyone good at following lab instructions?" Another girl and a spindly looking fellow raised their hands. "So we have four out of like 20 of you fuckers. How about drugs? Any of you ever try to cook something?" Several of them raised their hands. Sombra nodded in satisfaction at the amusing predictability of her degenerate youth. "Thought so. OK, you guys stay here. Unabomber, teach these little shits how to make a detonator. We need two, I'll give you cash, get whatever you need. The rest of you are going to get some ingredients with me..."

"What are we making?" asked a pup.

"Ammonium nitrate bombs."

Bronson emerged from his room. His ears had been ringing. He walked over to Sombra, grabbed her by the arm and took her aside. "Sombra, you're going to have a bunch of hungover kids make you a bomb? This is craziness."

"Actually, two bombs."

"So what? You are going to buy all the fertilizer in the city?"

"I'm not, they are," she replied impatiently.

"And you think people aren't going to notice it's all going here? Before a massive holiday?"

Sombra snapped her fingers rhythmically as she spoke. "It's the pace. If we do this fast they won't have time to react."

Bronson folded his arms. He was skeptical.

"Don't blow us up," he warned wagging his finger.

"I won't!"

"After this is done, you get to go back to Talon but we live with the consequences. You think you can just dress like Los Muertos and make this a big homecoming?"

Sombra was becoming bored with this line of questioning. She wrapped her arm around Bronson's imposing shoulders.

"Big B, things haven't been moving around here. I've brought some life to this place in less than a week. What are the consequences of not doing this, huh? Ever think of that?"

He wasn't convinced. How to persuade him?

Sombra gave Bronson a curious look as she chose her words. After a second, her expression turned sly. "Tell me, B, have you checked the news?" she said activating her hologram and flipping through various news stations, "Would you look at that, the tyrant whose been chasing you is preparing an impotent address to the nation to defend himself in light of some emails that were leaked this morning. He's more unpopular than ever. Hundreds of people are already protesting and it's not even noon."

Bronson rubbed his beard. "OK, so what's your point?"

"Don't be thick," she said hitting him upside the head, "the chaos will more than cover what we're doing. If we don't do this now we're going to lose our chance."

Bronson rubbed the side of his head and looked at his hand before speaking. "Just don't blow up the kids, huh?"

Sombra rolled her eyes as Bronson stepped away. "I'm making an omelette, B. Know what I'm saying?" she shouted after him.

"You're making an homme-lette. You like that? It's French."

Sombra thought for a moment. _That bastard_.

She returned to her fan-club. "OK, babies," she said rubbing her hands together, "let's make a trip to the hardware store..."

Soon her _revolucionitos_ were unloading several tons of fertilizer stock from a nearby home improvement store into two rental trucks. Sombra approached the cashier and gave a devilish smile.

"You didn't see us," she said slipping her several thousand dollars.

The cashier, a young thing wearing a red beanie and thick rimmed glasses, was savvy. She looked at the cash nonplussed.

"I have rent," she said straight faced. Sombra slipped her a thousand more. "Car payment." Sombra slipped her a few thousand more and eyed her suspiciously. "Student loans?"

"You're good, dear."

Sombra and her crew piled into the truck.

"Where to next?" asked one of her goons.

Sombra smiled. "We get some fuel oil."

They pulled up on a fuel depot after being delayed driving through a protest. The second truck returned to the squat. They idled outside for a while.

"How we gonna get the oil, Sombra?" a goon asked in a dumb voice.

Sombra tapped on the wheel.

"Shut up, I'm thinking!" she snapped, "OK, who can drive?"

"I can," offered a goon.

"OK, we wait for a truck to pull out, we follow it, when it stops we beat up the drivers and you take the truck. Got it?"

They all nodded. After some time a fuel-truck pulled out. They shadowed it conspicuously. Sombra tracked their radio transmissions to see if they had caught wind. Nothing. Soon they pulled into the lot of an office building. There they started their grim work. Sombra and her crew piled out of the truck and slowly surrounded them. She whistled to get their attention.

"You picked the wrong day to go to work my friends," she said looking at her nails, "do 'em."

Her pups leaped on them with clubs and knives and they were quickly felled.

"OK, load the bodies into the truck and take the tanker. Meet me back at the squat."

 

* * *

 

Bronson stood outside eating an apple as the two trucks pulled in front of the Los Muertos squat house. Sombra stepped out and met him.

"I see we're going to have heat this winter," he said. He peered into the back of the truck as Sombra's gang piled out. "And we can finally start that urban garden we've always dreamed of."

"Hardy hardy har, maybe don't talk to me until this is done, huh? I'm incredibly busy," she said storming inside. "How those detonators looking?" she barked.

As soon as the words left her mouth a small explosion went off, sending one of Sombra's Los Muertos pups flying back against the wall. He slumped to the floor. Sombra rushed over to him after picking something peculiar off the ground.

"You OK?" she asked, her eyes alight with amusement.

"Yeah..."

"I think you dropped this," she said holding his severed hand. His eyes widened in horror and he began to shout uncontrollably.

"Whoa, calm down, dear. They can put these back on. I think..."

He stopped momentarily. He was in shock.

Bronson stepped inside to see what the commotion was about. He approached Sombra and folded his arms.

"I told you this would happen," he said.

"You're a lucky shit," said Sombra wagging his hand at him, "must have been a piece of shrapnel that cut this off because most explosions will just completely shred your limbs..." Sombra eyed the hand curiously, toying with its fingers. "Wow, its clean off."

"Sombra, he's in shock. Could you not... play with it?" The boy stared in horror as he realized Sombra was a complete and utter psychopath. "Give me that," said Bronson swiping it out of her hand. " _Compañero_ , I'm taking you to the hospital." Bronson extended his hand. The injured Los Muertos went to grab with his hand stub. "Best use the other one, _compañero._ "

Bronson helped him up and escorted him out. Sombra tapped on her lip in thought.

"Did that blast look like it was powerful enough to oxidize ammonium nitrate?" she asked the room.

The frazzled Muertos stared at her in shock. The dust hadn't even settled.

"Anyone?" asked Sombra. The room was silent, still processing what had just happened. "Fucking, useless," she muttered.

This was going to steam ahead with or without them. Sombra fully tunnel-visioned. She went into the basement muttering something about Semtex and rummaged through the Los Muertos arms cache until she came upon a crate of old artillery shells. She found a crowbar and cracked it open. Her eyes sparkled, it was overkill but that would do it. But there was no way she could move it all herself. She bounded up the stairs. The Muertos licked their wounds.

"Pups, with me," she said.

No one moved.

Sombra shifted. A hot feeling bubbled in her forebrain. Bronson and Miguel were gone, she ruled.

"I said, with me..."

Her voice oozed with malice.

Again, no one budged. A bully's instinct took over and she scanned their faces. They looked resentful. Her eyes met those of a raven-haired girl sunk in a hoodie. She looked away. That was the weakness Sombra was looking for. She approached the pouting girl like a coyote. Soon Sombra's neon face was in hers glaring hatefully.

"What's the problem, huh?" asked Sombra with fake patience, "Tired? Don't want to work anymore?" The girl looked down fearfully. "Say something, dear. Anything."

"I'm scared and tired, I want to go home."

"Runaway, huh? Well, I'm afraid leaving our club is not so easy." Sombra grabbed her wrist and the girl let out a frightened wail as she was jerked to the floor. "Don't resist," said Sombra darkly as she pressed her foot against her back. Her eyes widened in terror as she felt Sombra force her wrist in the wrong direction. There was resistance, Sombra pushed through. She let out a bloody scream as Sombra slowly twisted until her arm dislocated with a horrible snap.

The Los Muertos let the unfortunate ordeal play out in front of them too intimidated to interfere. Sombra dismounted and stepped into the middle of the room bidding people to confront her while the poor girl whimpered and squirmed on the ground behind her. A sympathetic Muertos pug ran to the injured girl's side.

"Anyone else scared?" Sombra threatened, "Jesus, it was just a little noise." She targeted another young Muertos. "How about you?" She stepped up to him and forcefully grabbed his cheeks. "You scared?" He shook his head 'no.' "How about you?" She grabbed the chin of the person next to him and slapped him. He shook his head 'no.' "You? You? You?" she harassed down the line. "Good. OK babies. Since you're useless with DIY explosives we are moving to plan B: ordinance. Go to the basement."

They hustled to the stairs. Sombra kicked the last one as they passed.

Soon they were hauling the old ordinance crates up the stairs.

"Don't you dare drop it unless you want to be a blood splatter." They lowered the crate. Sombra hauled out one of the shells and sat down with it crosslegged. "Where the fuck did these come from?"

 

* * *

 

Bronson returned from the hospital to see Sombra's Muertos pups loading the last of the ordinance into the rental trucks. Sombra's head was in the engine of one of the trucks

"I see you found my collection of vintage artillery shells. Glad they are being put to good use."

"You can thank me later," she said closing the hood, "where are my drivers? You're up."

"Hey, we _can_ drive but we never agreed to driving your freaking car bomb."

Bronson folded his arms, he was curious to see how she handled this.

Sombra grabbed the punk's shoulder. "Listen fucker, I've come this far. You're not going to get in my way." She caught herself and regained her composure. "Look, its dangerous but you aren't going to die and you aren't going to get caught if you follow my instructions."

"Maybe you should drive, Sombra?" said Bronson.

She let go of the punk and stepped to Bronson. Sombra's eyes were filled with rage and desperation. "You want to be useful, B? Maybe you should drive. You've done nothing but slow me down."

"Where's your sense of humor?"

"I'm trying to get something done." She stood over the two drivers. "You want to be a revolutionary? Now's your chance." The driver's shifted uncomfortably. She eyed them with cool intelligence. "What do you need? Money? Drugs?" They looked away as she addressed them. "Fucking posers!" she shouted, "I bet Miguel wouldn't have a problem getting one of his men to do this!"

"You need martyrs, Sombra. People who are committed. I could tell this isn't going to work," said Bronson.

Sombra spit. He was right. Sombra had coaxed and coerced the Los Muertos to their limit.

"OK, plan B. Let's do something we're all good at."

 

* * *

 

The omnic 0x016D was walking to his assigned construction site. His steps were calculated so he would arrive on time at the millisecond. The route passed him through a dangerous neighborhood but there was a statistically insignificant number of anti-omnic attacks in that area. His life was good, though humans viewed him with suspicion. As long as he wasn't injured and he could afford to upgrade himself there was no end of work for him. He could dedicate himself to the finer things in life, art, philosophy, human psychology. He looked at the clouds.

He felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see a brown skinned woman with a neon tattoo covering her face. She was holding a bat.

"Boo!"

_Wham!_

He stumbled. 0x016D was in a fight. He ran some snap calculations to regain his footing and strike back but felt his limbs seize up. An emergency shutdown protocol was running. He had no control. He felt several hands grip his body and haul him off as the last of his circuits shut down.

He awoke several hours later in a large dingy room. Neon painted faces stared at him curiously. Another omnic sat next to him dismembered.

"Omnic brains are just artificial neural networks," said Sombra as she tapped on her haptic keyboard, "really they are just massive state machines. Reprogramming them is more like adjusting the biases of their neurons so they probabilistically fall into a desired state more easily." She smiled and turned to her _revolucionitos_. "You'll learn that if you stay in school."

"How'd you do that so fast then? Omnics probably have billions of neurons," asked a punk girl with a blonde dye-job.

Sombra cocked her head and eyed the girl. _Impressive_. "Stick around after all this is over and I'll tell you," she replied with a sly tone. "So, omnic, any plans for later this week?"

"I had plans but I think I want to blow up Los Pinos," said 0x016D.

"That's cool," said Sombra, somewhat amused. The Los Muertos behind her chuckled. "You know, we have just the thing to help..."

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sombra channels William Dafoe, goes a little crazy and the plot thickens.

Technicians and stage hands were rushing about the plaza to erect the massive stage where Lucio was going to perform. It extended 100 ft in the air and featured a copula mounted on an elevator where Lucio would DJ.

"I don't know how much longer I can stand Olivia, _compañero_ ," one of the guerrillas whispered to Miguel.

Olivia, not trusting the Los Muertos, had taken to micromanaging them giving them endless odd jobs and asking them to assist with equipment.

"Hey there," said Sombra uncloaking next to Miguel.

He jumped. She pulled him around a corner. They spoke in hushed tones.

"Jesus, Sombra, you startled me. What's the plan?"

"We need to move some weapons inside the stadium. They're in a truck outside."

"How can we? Olivia's on our case."

"I'll take care of her. Just start moving the weapons."

Miguel took off signaling for several other Los Muertos to follow. How to hold Olivia up?  _Why not have some fun?_  Sombra thought. She slicked back her pink mohawk and stepped around the corner approaching Olivia. They briefly made eye contact but Olivia rolled her eyes and busily turned her attention back to whatever she was managing. Sombra strut towards her and made like she was trying to get by. Olivia scoffed and tried to walk past her but Sombra quickly stepped in front to block her. 

"Can I help you?" 

"Yeah," said Sombra in a conniving tone but was then silent.

Olivia glared at her impatiently. "I don't have time for this. What do you need?"

Sombra stepped forward with a baleful look causing Olivia to step back to keep the dirty neon crust punk at a distance. Olivia narrowed her carefully made up eyes at Sombra to indicate there would be consequences for messing with her or wasting her time. She was not to be trifled with. But Sombra took another step and Olivia was forced to step back or she would be directly in her face.

"What do you think you are doing?" Olivia asked incredulously, however, her curt tone betrayed a hint of nervousness.

Sombra gave her a wolfish smile. Olivia felt Sombra's eyes on her in a way she had felt around certain libidinous men. Suddenly, Sombra stepped in and snuck a kiss. It was so fast it was almost like a bite. Olivia's eyes widened with outrage and she jerked away. She looked around to see if anyone was watching them. They were all busy or had their backs turned. What the hell was Sombra trying to pull?

" _Never_  do that again or I swear I'll—"

"You'll what, _mija_?"

Sombra stepped in again and again forcing Olivia to continue their dance until she heard the thud of her heel against the wall.

Olivia hadn't realized she was backing herself in a corner. Sombra accosted her, resting her hand on the wall next to Olivia's head and leaning over her. Sombra's scent caught Olivia's nose, it was offensive to her but somehow intoxicating, like sweat, dust and sex. Olivia tried to quickly dart past but Sombra pressed her against the wall and kissed her hard.

She froze.

Already, she could feel Sombra's hand under her dress sneaking its way into her sheer lace underwear. She tried to resist but Sombra delicately ran one of her vicious nails over her labia. Olivia felt the pressure of the sharp edge as Sombra playfully drew it along her intimate parts, one wrong move and Sombra could cut her. The hacker carefully guided her finger up and pressed the tip of her index finger against Olivia's clit. She began to rub in a slow circular motion as she kissed the nape of Olivia's neck causing the little blonde hairs on the back of her elegant neck to stand on end as her adrenaline spiked.

It felt surreal. This was happening in the middle of the stage, they were barely concealed.

Sombra pulled away and Olivia gave her a complicated look. Her eyes were narrow with anger but she was biting her lip as if she were piqued. Olivia was a very privileged woman who used to getting her way, Sombra had her attention.

“You can say no, _mija..._ ” whispered Sombra.

Olivia glared at her in silence.

Sombra chucked. "I know straight girls like you, you're powerful and frigid, you boss men around all day. But I'm willing to bet two things: you want a dick so you can fuck a guy in the ass and you want a guy who can rough you up in bed," chided Sombra, "guess you didn't know it would be me."

Olivia's mind reeled. Sure, it was true but this was horrifying. Sombra applied more pressure with her finger. Olivia inhaled sharply and closed her eyes.

"Say it: fuck me," whispered Sombra. Olivia shook her head. "Say it," she repeated as she applied more pressure. Olivia arched her neck forward from the stimulation. Sombra could feel the wetness on Olivia's lips so she curled her two middle fingers into her. Olivia was devastated. Each time Sombra curled her fingers inside her she involuntarily undulated with the motion.

"Fuck me," repeated Sombra. "Fuck me. Fuck me..." She chanted it like a mantra. "Say it."

Olivia whimpered.

"Come on, fuck me. Say it," Sombra coaxed.

It was unbearable. Olivia felt outraged, utterly helpless and embarrassed but she couldn't control her body, she felt incredibly turned on. She squeezed her knees shut to try and control the sensation but she wound up quivering.

"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me..." Sombra taunted in a low whisper, her voice wavering with intensity.

Soon Olivia was out of breath from trying to control her aroused panting. It was no use. She swallowed.

"Fuck me," Olivia finally whimpered. "Fuck me," she repeated as she closed her eyes and lost herself in Sombra.

At that moment, right when she’d succumbed, Olivia happened to open her eyes and see Lucio approaching from behind Sombra's head.

"Lucio!" she shouted in surprise.

She pushed Sombra away. Sombra turned and folded her arms as Olivia shimmied to fix her underwear.

"What's going on?"

Olivia cleared her throat.

"Nothing! Just talking to Sombra," she replied slightly flustered.

"And that's actually going OK?" he asked raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, fine, actually. More than great. I was just going to take this to my office."

Olivia grabbed Sombra's hand and pulled her as she hurried past Lucio. Sombra beamed at Lucio as she passed. _Oh no_ , he thought. Olivia's office was at the hotel, she didn't have an office here.

In moments they were at the stage manager's trailer in the Plaza parking lot. She shut the door and locked it then stared at Sombra with her mouth agape.

"How dare you!" she shouted giving Sombra a hard slap to the face. Sombra took it and smiled devilishly. She was completely unfazed. "Who the hell do you think you are? No one has ever done that to me!" She went to slap Sombra again but she caught it and backed Olivia against the wall. Sombra held her wrist above her head and kissed her forcefully. Olivia craned her neck and returned Sombra's kiss.

"Aw, I think she likes it..." Sombra taunted with a whisper. 

Sombra lightly gripped her neck as she began to tongue her. Suddenly, Olivia's eyes shot open and she pulled her hand away. "No, I am an educated and empowered woman. I'm a professional, I speak 5 languages. I make men beg for me. I'm not like this."

Sombra half-smiled. "Whatever you say, _mija_. Want to hit me again? It was a real turn on."

"Ugh, you're disgusting," said Olivia grabbing Sombra and passionately kissing her.

They made out feverishly as Olivia undid her dress between kisses. Soon she was standing only in her Agent Provocateur lingerie. Olivia bent down and started to undo the laces on her tasteful and ungodly expensive gladiator high-heels.

"No," ordered Sombra deviously, "those stay on."

Olivia pressed against Sombra and pulled off her muscle shirt. Sombra yanked at Olivia's bra.

"Careful! That's $800!" she said as Sombra cast it to the floor.

"Shut up," said Sombra putting her fingers in Olivia's mouth.

The two scorpion women made some unspeakable kind of love as Miguel and his men cached Sombra's weapons under the stage.

 

* * *

 

Sombra awoke in Olivia's hotel room. The naked platinum blonde lay sprawled over her still wearing her high heels. Olivia's fair lightly freckled skin contrasted against Sombra's. Her skin was flawless with the exception of some new noticeable bruises. Sombra had given her a hell of a time. She had made her orgasm again and again for hours. It had been somewhat pleasureless for her, however, since she was buying time for Miguel to move the weapons and Olivia had never been with another woman.

Sombra enjoyed the view of Olivia's incredible body except for one thing.

" _Chica_ , you snore."

Olivia snorted awake. All of Olivia's impeccable professional composure amounted to nothing when she was asleep.

"What?" she said bleary eyed, "oh, whatever. You're still here?"

"Don't play callous with me, _mija_. I couldn't leave without waking you up. You're on top of me."

Olivia rolled off.

"What time is it? Oh, _shit._ "

There was a knock on the door.

"Olivia, we gotta go! The whole team is out here!" yelled Lucio.

"I'm running late, leave without me!" she shouted stepping out of bed and immediately toppling over with a thud.

"Good one," chuckled Sombra. "Did you mean to do that?"

"Are you, OK?" yelled Lucio, "I heard a thud... is Sombra in there with you?"

"No! I'm fine, just go! I'll meet you there!"

There was a long pause and an exchange of voices outside. Sombra thought about saying something just to screw with Olivia but Olivia was one step ahead. She glared at Sombra, daring her. Sombra returned her a delinquent smile.

"OK, see you there!" said Lucio.

Sombra watched Olivia impatiently strut around the room dressed only in her high heels--an activity that was quite exciting for her. Olivia's manicured patch of pubic hair disappeared and reappeared as she walked. Fireworks were going off in Sombra's mind as Olivia did up her hair, showing off her small breasts. Olivia was hyper-femme, she worked out, her body looked compulsively shaven without imperfection as she strove to keep herself desirable by some commercial standard. For Sombra this didn't make her powerful or desirable as much as very fun to play with.

"Are you drooling?" asked Olivia.

Sombra wiped away the saliva. Olivia scoffed. "Don't think this will ever happen again. In fact, forget this happened. I should have called the police on you with what you did to me. You should probably be in jail anyways," she said in a cold tone.

Sombra resumed watching her expertly strut back and forth as she put her clothes on. With each pass, Olivia's expensive fragrance washed over her. Oh yes, Sombra had scored big time. Olivia swapped on a new pair of heels.

"Could you not so blatantly objectify me?" asked Olivia impatiently.

"Then don't objectify yourself," muttered Sombra. She continued to watch Olivia hungrily. "Hey, you're good in those things, when you know you have them on"

"Since I was 14. What do I have to do to get you out of here?"

"I was just leaving, I have to tend to my pups."

"Your what? Never mind..."

Sombra put on her bra and muscle shirt. She had to pass by Olivia to get her jean shorts. Olivia huffed and blew by her.

"Watch it, business Barbie," Sombra threatened. Olivia walked over to her desk and began scribbling something. "Hey, I'm talking to you." Olivia took the paper and forced it into Sombra's hand. She read it. It was Olivia's number in her impeccable handwriting. "Yeah, I'll call it when I want to snort coke off your ass."

Olivia swallowed.

"Please..." she replied.

Olivia peered out her door and scanned the hallway before stepping out.

"It's clear."

Sombra followed.

They turned the corner and immediately bumped into Lucio and Hana. Olivia's face went bright red.

"Lucio! I thought you were going to the plaza."

"S-Sombra, O-Olivia..." said Lucio stuttering the manner of a Sopwith Camel being hand-started.

A chain reaction of incensed facial expressions unfolded with Lucio initiating. He was immediately jealous and angry, Hana became jealous that Lucio was jealous but was also jealous because she was jealous of Olivia and felt threatened by both of them, Olivia, meanwhile, was more angry than embarrassed and Sombra didn't care.

The four of them stood awkwardly. Hana's tendency to attack Sombra on sight motivated her to leave quickly.

"I don't have time for this," she said blowing through the middle of Lucio and Hana with her head down.

" _Neoneun changnyeo ya!_ " shouted Hana.

 

* * *

 

_Later..._

"God damn it!" Sombra screamed as she swung a piece of debris across the squat-house common room. "Fucking fuck!" She flipped over the spool sending several liquor bottles crashing to the ground. "Of course something goes wrong at the last fucking moment!" She kicked a bottle and it sailed across the room. A Los Muertos transient scampered away as it broke against the wall. "I told you idiots to watch them! God damn you, you little traitors, I told you! I could kill someone!" Sombra paced around the room like a caged animal. "No one thought to ask where they were going?"

The Los Muertos hung their heads in guilt as Sombra roved around like a madman destroying everything she touched.

A Los Muertos shifted his eyes. He was tired of this scene. "I don't have to take this, I quit!" he said and started for the door.

Bad decision. Sombra was on top of him like lightning, blocking the door.

"You can't quit, you're gonna get me my omnics back."

"I'm done here, I thought you were cool but you're just another boss. No amount of money is worth this. Find them yourself."

As the syllables 'elf' left his mouth Sombra grabbed his neck and tackled him to the ground. His head bounced against the floor. She began to violently choke him with both hands. The terrified Los Muertos tried frantically to pull off Sombra's hands but he felt the oxygen in his brain go foul. He was losing consciousness.

"I give you drugs, I give you money, I get you laid. What the fuck does it take!?" she yelled into his face.

Several Los Muertos moved in to help him. Sombra felt them surround her. She tore off her helpless victim and attacked. More Los Muertos joined to stop her.

"You're not stopping me! None of you can stop me! I don't fucking need any of you!"

Something was happening to Sombra. Every neuron in her head was painfully ignited. It felt like her forebrain was on fire. She could feel the anger spilling out her eyes. Sombra held her head and collapsed into a ball. Her heart was pounding.

"I hate them! I hate them! I want them all fucking dead! They all need to pay! They have no idea what they did to me, how they made me feel, how much I pay for their decisions," she screamed, "they have it so easy, they just do everything for their own fucking pleasure. They don't care about me. They don't care how hard it is, how much I suffered, it's all for them!"

Purple bolts of electricity jetted out of Sombra's body as she began to cry. The Muertos stopped.

Sombra regressed. She was in solitary confinement in prison listening to the voices in her head mock her. She was sitting alone bruised and battered in a jail cell after a cop had had his way with her. She was lying feeling worthless and degraded in the bed of some yuppie she had just sold herself to. She was anxiously trying to fall asleep under a stairwell after a day of unsuccessfully pan-handling in Dorado. She was crying in the depths of the night as she struggled with an un-understandable programming problem in an unfriendly foster home. She was an orphan girl who had just lost her parents in the war.

"I'll kill them... I'll kill them... I'll get revenge. You can't stop me. I need to. I need it," she muttered, her voice was thick with hatred.

Sombra snapped to as she heard the shuffle of boots and rifles cocking. The room filled with armored cops sporting powerful automatic rifles.

“Hands on the ground! Hands on the ground!”

The Los Muertos had no time to draw their weapons. They complied as the cops rushed over to handcuff them and secure their weapons. A cop pressed Sombra's face into the floor as he unceremoniously cuffed her. It was over in an instant. He hauled her up when he was done as another cop moved to assist. Sombra spat in his face as he grabbed her arm. They jerked her outside.

"Fucking perverts," she muttered.

"Say what?" said the cop elbowing her in the stomach.

Soon they were being loaded into police vans and hauled to the district police station for processing. The Muertos in the van stared at Sombra with expressions of anger and regret. They'd been under the influence of a sociopath. Sombra stared back hatefully, she knew they would rat on her.

If Sombra's hands were free she would have strangled each one of them in that instant.

The convoy of police vehicles arrived at the station. The Muertos were taken out and lined up in an outdoor detention area in the back. The cops milled about aimlessly and harassed them before finally ordering them to identify themselves. Every time they demanded Sombra's name she responded differently. She was variously Clementine, Adolf Hitler, Joe Millioniare, Fuck You on several occasions, the act of spitting in a cops face several others, Rosa Parks, the number 12. The line of punks chuckled to themselves until it was apparent that Sombra was holding them up.

"For the last time missus, you are testing our patience. It is not advised to mess with us when we don't know what harm you might do to yourself in our custody. So, what is your name?"

Sombra looked up and grinned.

"What is it going to be? Dick Dastardly? Cheesus? MC Hammer?"

"Hey, he's good," muttered Sombra.

"You disgust me, get her out of my sight."

"You didn't get to hear my name!" said Sombra as they hauled her inside.

Sombra waited in the cell for hours before she was finally brought into an interrogation room.

"So, mystery girl," said the captain stepping into the room. An officer saluted and handed him a fat folder. "Tell us about yourself. We know who your friends are, they are pointless. But you, you are different."

Sombra's eyes narrowed as she glared at the captain. She was calculating what he was going to say. The odds were good it was weird.

"You work for Talon," she said coolly.

"That is a curious accusation," he said fixing his cuffs, "Agent Sombra."

She was silent.

"Was that you or your computer? I bet it's hard to tell the difference now. Maybe it was my tone that gave it away," he said smirking. "Never mind, such questions are irrelevant. Foreplay, before the main course."

Sombra spat on the table. She was pissed he had let the police fuck with her.

"You do quite a bit of that, not the respect you should show a colleague."

Sombra continued to glare.

“Forgive me, I failed to introduce myself, I am Francisco Delatorre.”

He sighed when Sombra failed to respond. It didn't matter to her, he dressed like a cop, he acted like a cop. Talon or not, he was a cop.

"OK then, down to business. What were you doing with two trucks full of fertilizer and fuel oil, two reprogrammed omnics and an armed gang of Los Muertos thugs?"

"I'm here the same reason you are."

He laughed.

"I am here doing my job. I am a spy undercover as a high-ranking federal police officer. I have spent years in this capacity feeding vital information to Talon to instrument regime change. What are you doing?"

He leaned back in his chair folding his hands. Sombra raised an eyebrow.

"Am I supposed to be impressed?"

"No. For you? No. I know you are very smart, it's in your file." He pat the thick folder then leaned forward. "Let me be frank—and don't worry about our cover, the officers here are with us—we've been watching you since you arrived. Some of us have known about you before you decided to work with Talon. We were ordered to make contact with you as soon as you arrived. But there are those of us in the military, in the intelligence community, in the police and so on who do not trust your methods or the people you work with. This government will be replaced by one favorable to our interests but we cannot see in your actions a strategy working towards that."

Sombra glared at him in silence.

"Nothing to say?"

"Nope"

“Well, let me fill you in on a few things,” he said with hateful disdain, “you have your plans for October 31, no doubt to reprise your group's failed uprising. However, our plans, which we have been working towards for years, are to use the army and the police to stage a coup on November 10, the anniversary of a real revolution. So, you see how this might _complicate_ things...”

Sombra twisted her head away moodily.

Francisco nodded and sucked on his teeth.

"OK," he said with cool anger as he opened the file, "it says here that you were chosen for your connection to Los Muertos and the O-31 Movement. So who are you loyal to, huh? These anarchists or Talon? Some of us see your previous involvement with these groups as a conflict of interest."

Sombra yawned and the officer became noticeably impatient, abruptly taking off his hat and smacking it down on the table. "Listen..." he threatened. He calmed and wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. Sombra observed him silently, he was scared of something... "Listen, Agent Sombra, I am merely trying to understand your place in all this. You tell me, I let you go."

Sombra squared her jaw and continued to glare before she spoke. "OK, you listen, I don't know anything about 'instrumenting regime change' and I wasn't let in on Talon's plans but I do know a few things about governments: unpopular governments don't last. And judging from everything you told me, I think I know what type of government Talon wants in power. So you can tell your friends in the military and the police and intelligence or whatever that whatever they put in place after Portero is gone will not be very popular. Get it?"

He leaned back again.

"Interesting, Agent Sombra. I-"

"So you better let me go because, if you do actually work for Talon, I'm beginning to think you're deliberately wasting my time," she interrupted.

He put his hat back on and thumbed through the file until he arrived at the section on Los Muertos.

"OK, Agent Sombra," he said as he shifted his shoulder, "your little group, you say you want to reclaim territory lost by the Mexican Empire but you want to return 'stolen' land to the indigenous people of Mexico. Never mind that you want to disband the armed forces. You want to nationalize the economy and have 100% employment but you want to deindustrialize. You want direct democracy but you want the senate to have mandatory quotas for representing women and minorities, yet you maintain that only labor organizations should have the right to nominate candidates and only union members should vote." He gave an incensed glare. "Who is wasting who's time again?"

Sombra hated this man with her life.

"Let me give you a hint about Talon since you are new," he continued, "Talon is a results oriented and highly competitive organization. They like things done efficiently. If you can't get it done, you won't last. Our work and our methods are proven. You may disagree but it has never failed."

"Thanks for the lesson, I'll keep it in mind," said Sombra seething with contempt.

They stared at each other in hateful silence for a moment.

"Any other tips, asshole?"

He smiled.

"No, just looking at you. You must forgive me, you are quite easy on the eyes."

"Enjoy it while you can you mediocre prick."

He laughed and sighed. Sombra silently cursed him out.

"We are almost done here, however, I will let you in on one last thing: we report to the same man."

"Reaper!" said Sombra betraying her surprise.

She knew that bastard had been holding out on her.

"Yes, so you see we find ourselves in a bit of a race. But I'll be sure to tell him what you are up to. Then you can tell him yourself how your plans fit into the picture. That will be soon, I'm sure."

They sat in silence.

“Tell you what... I will let you know one more thing.”

“I thought you were done,” said Sombra with palpable annoyance.

“No, you'll like this. Let me be frank, I personally hate Los Muertos, I think that the less of them there are the better the world is. However, I cannot actively work against a fellow agent. So I will give you a gift,” Francisco said then smiled. He opened the fat folder and pulled out another tossing it in front of Sombra. “In this folder are the names and pictures of the people who ratted on you.”

“You're bluffing.”

Francisco gave a few chuckles then smiled maniacally. “Oh no, Agent Sombra, read my face with that computer of yours, I'm not bluffing.”

He stood and tipped his cap.

"I'll leave you to it then. Goodbye."

He walked to the door. Two officers met him and they exchanged whispers periodically glancing over at Sombra. Finally they approached her and undid her handcuffs. She cursed to herself as they worked.

Sombra was finally free.

She took the folder and flipped through the photographs.

 

* * *

 

Sombra was escorted back outside with a small detail. The two omnics were waiting for her along with the captured Los Muertos. They stood in a line with their hands cuffed. She walked towards them at a brisk pace.

“Guess what?” said Sombra, “we're free, none of you are going to jail.”

The line was noticeably relieved.

“I guess I should apologize to you all, you didn't know what you were in for. Many of you have been doing jobs for me but most of you just happened to be hanging around. Not all of you are in on the plan so I'm sorry I got you involved,” said Sombra looking down. The apology sounded fake, there was a hint of cruelty on her voice. “But there's just one thing...” She looked up at the crowd of Los Muertos with cold hateful eyes. “Some of you ratted on me. So, we have some business to attend to...”

 


	10. Chapter 10

"Kneel," she said darkly.

The punks looked at each other incredulously. They were not kneeling. Sombra grabbed a gun from one of the police officer's holsters and cocked it. She aimed it at the Los Muertos.

"Kneel! Fucking kneel!" she shouted shaking with fury. "And look at me. If you look away, I'll assume you ratted!"

She fired at the concrete. The bullet ricocheted and sparked off a police vehicle.

"Do it now!"

They exchanged nervous glances and hesitantly knelt. Sombra had just become worse than the cops to them.

Sombra went down the line and scanned their faces. Every second or third person she stopped and made a slow "come hither" gesture. The selected Los Muertos stood and walked to her side. 

When she reached the end of the line she nodded a few times as she looked at who was left.

"OK, so everyone kneeling ratted on me."

Hubbub and shouts of objection emerged from the line.

The last Los Muertos stood. "What? That's a blatant lie!" he shouted.

She shot him in the head immediately. The line began to panic. Several punks tried to stand but the cops closed in and beat them back to their knees. There was no escape.

"What the fuck, Sombra? What are you doing?" whimpered a punk. "You're going to kill all of us?"

Sombra spit and held his head down. He began to mumble incoherently as she pressed her gun against his head.

_BLAM!_

She fired and the line jumped. The answer was definitely yes.

One of the free Los Muertos tried to run to stop Sombra but a cop beat him down with the butt of his rifle.

"Get them out of here!" Sombra snapped at the police.

The cops huddled the free Los Muertos out of the station. She moved to the next one and the next one. Soon she was out of ammo. She clicked the empty gun against a Los Muertos' head several times as he stared with horror at the ground. She threw the gun down in frustration. A cop stepped up and handed her a new one.

"How can you do this? Are you working for the cops?" he asked looking up at her.

"No," she said coolly then shot him in the back of the neck.

The girl next inline recoiled from the shot and began to sob. Sombra stepped behind her and ended her misery progressing down the line with brutal efficiency.

Sombra reached the end. The last man standing looked at the line of dead punks, orphans, runaways and transients, boys and girls, most of them still teenagers then looked at Sombra. Her right arm was splattered in blood.

"You won't be able to live with yourself," he said flatly.

She pushed his head down. Sombra's heart raced with bloodlust as she held her gun to his neck. She fired.

"You're right."

When all was said and done, she had expended two clips, 32 rounds, on the Los Muertos snitches.

Francisco slow clapped behind her as her last victim's body slumped to the ground.

"Very good, Agent Sombra. Very Good. Now I see why Talon wants you. You are like a mad dog. How I wish you could work with us."

She tossed the pistol to the ground and wiped her nose.

"I want to go home," she said.

"That can be arranged..."

 

* * *

  

Sombra returned to the squat after her grim work. The place was practically empty except for Bronson.

"Sombra!" he rushed up to her as she entered, "what the hell happened here? I was out for a moment and I find out you had a breakdown as the cops showed up."

"I don't want to talk about it."

Bronson watched the miserable looking punks trickle in. They were traumatized and confused by what had just taken place. At least now there would be more space.

"These are all the people you've come back with? Where is everyone?"

"We've got bigger problems, the police are working with Talon. I don't know how many but they are planning something for the 10th of November."

Bronson shook his head.

"No, I'm serious Sombra, what happened?"

Sombra looked at the floor. Her eyes shifted.

"I had to, they ratted on me," she said.

"Had to what?" a wave of fear followed by sadness hit Bronson's face, "Sombra, no... they were just kids."

Suddenly, Bronson's face twisted with anger.

"You've really lost it, Sombra. That wasn't your decision to make. I'm in charge here." He cleared his throat and addressed the room. "Anyone who isn't comfortable participating can leave now. The rest of you, for now on you'll take orders from me."

Sombra glowered at Bronson as several Los Muertos left and the herd was further thinned. Her first instinct was to fight him but she was exhausted. Her brain had been inflamed with rage all day.

"What the hell happened? We're this close to executing your insane plan and Miguel said you disappeared last night with a blonde woman. Now I learn that you've executed half the people who lived here after a police raid. Do you realize that you're insane?"

Sombra frowned moodily and tried to step by him. He stopped her and she glared at him hatefully.

Sombra's brain cycled through its various instinctual responses. Should she seduce him? No. Should she intimidate him? No. Should she kill him? Possibly. Should she make him feel bad for being dumber than her? No. She had nothing. What the hell was this feeling? She cleared her throat.

"Bronson, I'm sorry."

"You're what?" he said with genuine curiosity.

"I said, I'm sorry!" she shouted angrily, "you want me to carve it into your forehead?"

Bronson blinked.

"I heard it, I didn't think it was possible. But even still those kids aren't coming back. You can't lead like this, it's not sustainable. We won't even make it to the 31st. I don't even know what you have planned for after."

"We're at the end, B. You have to let me stay in control."

Bronson regarded her face as if he was searching for something.

"These are people's lives you're talking about. You know what I see in this plan? A pop and a fizzle. It's just terrorism. People have been following you until now because you showed them a good time and let them, you know, desublimate but I don't think they know what they're doing or why."

Sombra continued to look at the ground. He was right. She hated every moment of this.

"I'm telling you the truth. Do you think these people are going to follow you to the barricades on the 31st? Do you think you can do what you did to these folks with 100,000 people?"

Sombra frowned. She was realizing she was in over her head. Fucking mania, she'd been on a head trip since she arrived. This was the big come down.

"Los Muertos squats around the city are riled up because they think you're some kind of hacker messiah but everyone who's come in contact with you thinks you're crazy. You've got scattered protests in the streets from your leak and 25 fighters who'll follow orders _if_ they think they’re reasonable. Now you're telling me Talon is not on our side and the cops are planning something themselves for the 10th. I don't see a revolution."

Sombra was silent. A light panic set over her, she was setting Los Muertos up for failure.

"You think Los Muertos is in any position to take control of the government? We failed last year, Portero was back in 6 weeks..."

"Shut up," she said finally.

"Sombra, it's time to face fact-"

"Shut the fuck up, I'm thinking!" she interrupted. "The plan is still on, I don't care if you or Miguel don't think it's going to work. If the bombs don't go off, I can't get off."

"Yeaaa!" shouted one of the reprogrammed omnics, "sorry..."

Bronson gave her a worried look.

"OK, so they're going off-"

"Ever thought about running for president B?" she interrupted.

"What? No, Sombra we have to be serious-"

"I am being serious. What about the FLN? Can they take control?"

"They've gone indigenous like the EZLN, they fetishize horizontal democracy. I don't think so," said Bronson, "Sombra, this is not something you can hack together in a day..."

"What about Miguel? He's the spitting image of Che..."

As the words left her mouth, Miguel and his men arrived at the door. The thought, _that might actually work_ , barely had time to form in Bronson's mind.

"Saying something?" said Miguel, "I can come back."

"No, by all means _compañero_ ," replied Bronson, "its all very favorable, please join us. I think you'll find your accommodations have improved. Your men can move into rooms tonight."

"Where did everyone go?" asked Miguel.

The Los Muertos in the room sealed their lips and averted their eyes. They'd survived because they didn't tattle. Miguel sensed something sinister but wasn't sure what.

"I'll assume it was bad," he said. "You Los Muertos have a strange way of handling yourselves."

"I think we have something to learn from you then," replied Sombra almost ditzily.

Bronson raised an eyebrow at her. He would have laughed when he realized what Sombra was trying to pull if she hadn't murdered half the people he lived with. Sombra stood and gestured to a tired Los Muertos. He stepped forward apprehensively.

"Go get alcohol for everyone and whatever you want for yourself," she said sweetly, although her voice had the tenor of a threat. 

It was a small apology for the massacre she oversaw earlier in the day. The Muertos hesitated, Sombra looked at him innocently. His expression was distrustful. What were they supposed to do, party as though nothing happened? Or were they somehow celebrating the massacre? Bronson nodded at the punk indicating it was OK and he stepped forward to retrieve the card. Perhaps it ultimately didn't matter, he'd decided to stay after all.

"Please, my men are still recovering from the other night," said Miguel with a tone of concern.

"No, you will want to be drunk when you hear this," Sombra replied with a smile.

 

* * *

 

The Los Muertos drank with melancholic decadence. The soldiers joined them. Miguel had ordered his men to go light but they seemed to be overdoing it. A few soldiers were sad to learn some of their Los Muertos hookups had mysteriously moved away or suddenly quit but quickly recovered when they found new ones.

Sombra and Miguel drank at the relocated spool sitting awkwardly across from one another.

"So, what's the news? Why the celebration?"

Sombra gave him a knowing smile then stretched over the table clawing it like a cat.

"You're so far away..." she said.

"You are drunk, _señorita._ "

Sombra brought her arms in close and extended her chest with a sigh. She looked up to see if Miguel was looking.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

She wasn't sure, she'd gotten him once before but something wasn't clicking. She was having trouble turning it on. Miguel was a smart honorable man with few obvious weaknesses. Sombra needed to turn him into more of a Lucio.

Sombra sighed and slumped down, resting her cheek on her hand. "Let me be honest, friend. We're having a crisis of leadership."

"Really? I would never have guessed. I thought it was normal for gangs to lose half their members in one day."

"Ha-fucking-ha," replied Sombra, "listen, fucker, this isn't easy for me to ask..."

"Well, I'm all ears."

Sombra huffed. This felt off, like she was asking him to be her husband. It went against her anarchist soul.

"Mexico will need a new leader after the 31st..."

Miguel's eyes squinted in disbelief. "You're kidding me-"

"It kills me to say it but you know what I'm asking."

"I knew it! I knew you didn't have a plan! You're crazy. You want me to be president? You're telling this to me when we are counting down the hours to your insane plan!"

Miguel stood up and put his hands on his hips.

"You! You're crazy, man." He wagged his finger at her.

"Sit down, you're making a scene," she said barely hiding her amusement.

"For the love of-." He sat down. "Why me? And-and what am I suppose to do? Declare my government after you crater Los Pinos? Hey, and you can be finance minister. Antonio can be Vice President. Hell, let's make this bottle of tequila Secretary General!"

"We need someone strong, the military and police are planning a coup on the 10th. This government is coming down one way or another. We need to be ready."

"Even better! You're setting me up to be taken down!"

Sombra chuckled.

"You're funny right now, did I flatter you?"

"No! This is craziness. Some conspirator you are!"

Sombra gave him a sly smile. She was getting a rise out of him. "Aww, Miggy, I think I flattered you. Don't tell me the thought had never crossed your mind. Why'd you join the FLN in the first place? Definitely not to grovel as a soldier for eternity."

No, since he was a boy he dreamed of emancipation for his country and baptizing it in revolutionary fire. He looked up to people like Che and Fidel Castro. He dreamed of being a Marcos figure.

"Subcommandante Miguel. Why don't you try it on for size? Has a nice ring to it."

"There is no way, the councils didn't vote on this. You can't just decide. There's no way they'd accept."

Sombra stood up and sauntered towards Miguel.

"Fine, then do it separately from the FLN. Form a vanguard."

"You, you're like a demon, that would be totally unacceptable," he said leaning away from her.

Her eyes were cool, she was finally getting somewhere with him. He was already entertaining the idea.

"Tell me Miguel, how could they not accept? You're telling me they would do what? Denounce you? All the Los Muertos in the city are ready to strike and riot. Portero is going down. I've got a captive audience of 40,000 people. Declare yourself the spokesman of the revolution and see who follows. Let the crowd decide."

Miguel thought to himself. It was sounding less and less bizarre. Sombra sat herself on his lap and grabbed a bottle of liquor. As she moved air wafted into his nose carrying her scent. Sombra, of course, hadn't showered in days but her scent was somehow pacifying.

"Think about it, they'll see you, they'll watch you lead them to victory and they'll love you. We can tell them this was all your idea," Sombra coaxed him. "You asked what we're celebrating."

"Yeah?"

"Your political ascendancy. Cheers."

Miguel clinked his bottle with hers almost in a daze. Was it really going to work like that? He was going to have to prepare an address. What would he look like? How would the crowd react?

Sombra turned towards him and straddled him. She raised his liquor bottle to his mouth and tipped it so he took a long drink. He swallowed painfully and she delicately tipped it back down.

"I'm humble, I'm nothing more than a spokesperson giving the people direction," he said, his face starting to flush with alcohol.

"Of course you are."

"We'll have elections after all this is over."

"Of course we will."

"So now that you've manipulated me, what are you going to do? Get up and leave me to my thoughts about how crazy all this is?"

Sombra placed her hand on his chest as she did the day before.

"You're a smart man, Miguel. But I'm not so predictable."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and shifted.

"I don't want to give you a chance to change your mind," she said as she leaned in and kissed him.

Bronson watched from across the room fuming. Sombra was obviously trying to draw attention away from her mistakes by making herself an object of desire. She was tactless. Although, Bronson was a little hurt he wasn't getting this attention.

Miguel returned the kiss but then hesitated. He felt eyes on them.

"Is there a problem, _compañero_?" she said grabbing his collar.

"People are watching."

"So what?" she asked tugging, "your soldiers haven't seen you handle a girl before?"

"Well, its more like you're handling me..."

"Exactly."

She leaned in to kiss but he felt her unzip his fly. He grabbed her hand. Sombra chuckled.

"Never dealt with a liberated woman, comrade?" she mocked.

"In private, yes," he said through his teeth.

"Aww, that's too bad," she said as she lifted herself from him.

Miguel stood up in a fluster and watched Sombra's butt as she slinked away. Quickly, he took a swig of alcohol and trotted after her. He met her outside of Bronson's room.

"What are you doing?" Sombra asked, she even managed the same tone Miguel had from before.

Miguel exhaled. "You've piqued my curiosity," he admitted.

Sombra put her hand on his shoulder.

"Whatever you were going to do you would have done already."

She opened the door. Miguel stepped in front.

"Very ambitious, captain."

"Lieutenant."

Sombra laughed. "You don't want to be with me, I'll give you a rough time."

"Try me."

Sombra kicked her foot and gave him a coy look. She nodded for him to come in. "Don't say I didn't warn you, captain."

It was not what Miguel expected. He was expecting for Sombra to let down her guard. He was expecting he would penetrate her and watch her tough-as-nails exterior melt away. Her eyes would go starry and she'd get carried away by animal pleasure as she rode his dick like so many other girls did. He was an utter fool. Instead what he got was a horrific spell of delayed orgasm and a reconfiguration of what he considered sex. Sure, he got to feel her up and press his naked body against hers but Sombra was firm that she would kill him if he tried to put his dick in her. She kicked him out when she wanted to be alone.

Bronson had been drinking scornfully as he waited for his room to be free. He stood and walked towards his room. As he passed by Miguel he gave him a cold look.

"It was really not what you think," said Miguel.

Bronson scowled and continued to walk by. He stepped into his room. Sombra was lying naked in his bed. He gave her a hurt look. Sombra scoffed.

"What? Jealous? You shouldn't be, you get me every night..."

"I'm annoyed by your methods, Sombra. What, you think you have Miguel under your thumb now? How has this solved any of our problems?”

Sombra rested her head against her hand and regarded her body.

“No, like always, I'm just getting the ball rolling...” she said as she picked a scab.

She pat the bed to indicate to Bronson to sit. He dutifully sat and Sombra laid herself naked across his knees. He felt her warm hardware against his thigh. Sombra was some kind of creature. Bronson cleared his throat.

“So whats he doing now?” he asked.

“Preparing his address. Making a list of people in his inner circle. You know, turning his attention to matters of government,” she said caressing Bronson's face.

"I can't believe you, does executing people turn you on?" he said in disbelief.

"I need to do _something_ to forget."

Bronson was frustrated, Sombra still smelled like Miguel. He turned away. Sombra became forceful and grabbed his chin turning him back towards her.

“Don't be salty. You forget I'm a nympho,” she said sitting up.

Sombra looked at his lips then gave him a teasing smile. She went in to kiss. Bronson received it but was frozen. His pride was getting in the way.

She pulled back detecting his hesitation.

“Sombra, don't we have work to do?”

“Yes, I need help with something,” she said, “you know, I get off so easily sometimes its hard to feel satisfied...”

Bronson remained still. He couldn't believe he was feeling jealous over a murderous psychopath. How could Sombra have managed this? She pat on his chest hard.

“Do it,” she commanded as she pushed the massive man onto his back.

Miguel scrawled furiously on his address with his head rested against his hand as he heard Sombra having some mysterious kind of sex with Bronson. The party roared around him. He derived satisfaction in knowing that Bronson was getting the same treatment as him. Another part of him felt profoundly jealous. Some typically masculine impulse found it frustrating she didn't let him fuck her. It was all bizarrely motivating, the game was to keep his focus as he endured this bizarre form of castration. His address grew on the page as the words flowed eloquently from his pen.

Theoretical considerations abounded. No one would know who he was, should he tell them or was it better to speak as an anonymous voice of the people? How to motivate them to act? How to allow them to capture their hopes and dreams in his speech, channel their rage, get them to do the unthinkable? What would hold their attention? Sombra told him this Lucio was a revolutionary himself and that elements of the crowd would already be amenable to agitation, perhaps it was just a question of permission. Others would be afraid to act, he had to reassure them.

Sombra was in his head. He cycled between thoughts of her twisting and moaning with pleasure and his frantic work. How could such a woman exist? Why was she torturing him? But then this was his dream, she had given him permission to write something he had been secretly writing in his head for years. But he never thought it was going to happen like this...

He was done.

Almost in time, the ruckus stopped.

Miguel was incensed, he'd endured this treatment for almost an hour and a half. He stepped over to Bronson's room and angrily knocked on the door.

“What?” said Bronson as he swung open the door.

He saw Sombra sitting on the bed. They were both fully clothed. What the hell had been happening? She was fucking with his head.

Miguel cocked his head to the side. “I'm done,” he said impatiently.

Sombra got up and gave Miguel a condescending smile. She'd really gotten his goat. She snatched the paper from his hand and read it quickly.

“Miguel... I didn't know you had it in you...”

“Yes you did, that's why you asked me to do it,” he said bitterly, “surely, it wasn't because I was the only real revolutionary around?”

“I'll take credit for this, I asked for Miguel specifically from the FLN,” interjected Bronson, his pride restored.

Miguel gave him an utterly offended look. Their relationship had just been significantly complicated by what Sombra had done.

“I'm a soldier, _compañero,_ not some slave you can exploit for your own credit...”

Sombra rolled her eyes.

“Calm yourselves, boys,” said Sombra smugly, “we're all equal _partners_ in this little project, know what I'm saying?”

Miguel squinted at her incredulously. Sombra poked her head out the door and peered to the left and right.

“Why don't you come in?” she said grabbing his collar.

 

* * *

 

Bronson, Miguel and Sombra stepped out of the room one at a time and walked to the center of the common area. Miguel shifted and fixed his underwear. Among other things they had concocted a plan to restore the faith in the disillusioned Los Muertos. 

“Everyone shut up!” shouted Sombra.

The party continued to rage. It turned out Bronson's authority did in fact override hers. Bronson gave her a knowing grin.

“Everyone shut up!” shouted Bronson.

The crowd settled.

“So, is everyone drunk?”

The room responded somewhat positively, tempered by the ambiguity of the events that day.

“OK, Miguel has an announcement.”

“C _ompañeros,_ Los Muertos and loyal soldiers of the FLN. All of you know that we are planning something for the holiday. We have all been waiting and wondering in anticipation as we saw the components of the plan falling into place. Certainly me and my men have been left in the dark so we cannot object to Sombra's methods. But it is time to let you know that you are all central to a plan to overthrow the government and replace it with one of our own...”

The room hushed except for some scattered murmurs.

“Sombra has led you to believe that you are merely to use the holiday as an occasion to cause chaos. Certain of you are aware that she plans to take down Portero. The plan until now has been suicidal. But I am telling you now what you are fighting for. It is for a better future for Mexico. All of you, regardless of your politics, I know that if you are here, you want revolution. So, we will install a new government.”

Miguel let the words sink in.

One of the FLN soldiers spoke up. “What government will replace Portero, who will be in power?”

“That is the big question,” Bronson admitted, “this is an emergency situation and we are at the center of the action, so the decision we make tonight will decide for all of Los Muertos."

"Indeed, we don't have many options and time is short so I am humbly offering myself as the new leader,” added Miguel.

The room murmured with discontent. This was sudden news.

"If you know of anyone better or believe you can do a better job yourself, please step forward," shouted Bronson.

The room was silent.

Miguel cleared his throat and spoke. “Many of you know me, you know that I am fair, but we do not have time to take this to the FLN. And from the Los Muertos that I've met, I know it runs against your ideals to replace one figure with another, but I assure you I believe in democracy. You've seen me lead my men, I have always put my decisions to a vote.”

“So lets take a vote!” shouted someone from the crowd.

Murmurs of agreement came from the crowd. Sombra ran some snap calculations. Perhaps there was a way to use their reduced numbers to her advantage. 

“Let me speak, B.” she said.

“Sombra has something to say,” announced Bronson.

“C _ompañeros,_ it is more complicated than that, we are two distinct organizations forming a congress,” said Sombra addressing the room, “the voting should be proportional...”

Confused murmuring emerged from the crowd. No one trusted Sombra.

“Sombra, what are you doing?” whispered Miguel.

She elbowed him to shut up.

“We'll organize into five blocks of equal size each with five FLN members. Each block will vote, majority rules, sound fair?” she said.

“Why not a straight vote?” asked someone from the crowd.

“Lets vote on it,” offered another person.

They did a simple majority vote. It passed. The room organized itself into their blocks. Bronson pointed at each block and they raised their hands. They tallied the votes. It was 4 to 1. He won.

“For those of you who did not vote for me, I hope I can prove myself to you in the hours ahead. All of you will be responsible for leading the revolution in your own way.”

The room returned to its revelry although it had noticeably quieted down.

Miguel whispered to Sombra, “would I have won if you didn't do that?”

Sombra put her arm around his shoulder.

“Just don't think about it.”

 

* * *

 

The clock struck midnight. It was the eve of Dia De Los Muertos. A Talon stealth troop transport coursed silently through the sky over Mexico City. It landed on the outskirts. As the cargo bay doors opened several masked Talon troops stormed out to clear the landing zone followed by an armored personnel carrier. Finally, hooded figure stepped out slowly into the center of a formation of Talon troops. The black aircraft's engines flared kicking up dust as it lift off. A line of federal police officers met them. An officer approached the formation of troops.

“Agent Reaper, pleasure to finally have you with us again.”

“Spare me the pleasantries. Where's Sombra?”

“She was... not amenable to our plans, she is staying with her Los Muertos friends...” said Francisco.

Reaper growled in annoyance.

“I assure you, besides her, everything is going according to plan.”

Reaper did not like the 'besides her' part of his sentence. He cocked his head and grabbed Francisco's collar.

“You let her go?” he asked menacingly.

“I had no choice. I got where I am today by following orders, we are not allowed to undermine the efforts of fellow agents! You must know that,” he said frantically.

Reaper let go.

“What about tomorrow?”

“We are more than prepared for whatever disruption Los Muertos has planned for the festival. We know she is going to target two buildings but even if she succeeds it won't do her any good.”

“She's working with them...”

“I assure you, they are hopelessly destroyed. Los Muertos has been reduced to a small crime syndicate while the FLN is fighting a losing battle in the countryside. They have no hope of militarily taking control of the country”

“If your men fail, Francisco. We're going with her plan.”

Francisco exhaled in annoyance.

“Agent Reaper, I must insist that is most unwise, we've been working towards this moment for years. The chance of Agent Sombra succeeding is most unlikely.”

“You don't have the authority to question my judgment. But I can easily question yours. You were going to let Sombra execute her plan?”

“Again, Agent Reaper, it is not my place to interfere-”

“No...” he interrupted, “we're pushing the plan forward. The coup will happen on the 31st not November 10th”

Francisco thought for a moment then nodded. This was highly irregular but he had no choice.

“I will notify my men, you must understand this is short notice.”

“Your men will move on Portero and shut out Los Muertos, you can't afford Sombra succeeding.”

“I can't afford?”

“No, Francisco, you can't. You're an inflexible asset. You failed to bring Sombra into the fold. If Sombra succeeds your appointment in the federal police will be quite useless to us. So, for your sake, do not fail.”

 


	11. Chapter 11

Lucio watched a tank and a formation of militarized police lumber down the street from the balcony of his hotel suite.

"What's happening out there?" asked Hana.

Lucio squinted his eyes.

"I'm not sure..." he said forbodingly, "I'll call Olivia."

Olivia was stuck at an intersection. Horns blared angrily as she sat behind a military barricade. Protesters clashed with the police up ahead. Her phone rang.

"Fucking great," she groaned.

She answered, "What is it, Lucio? I'm stuck behind a fucking tank."

"Do you know what's going on?"

"The fucking protesters are out in force today. I tried talking to the police but all they're saying is that it's a state of emergency."

"Where are you now?"

"I'm trying to head to the plaza, this is our last day to prepare and they fucking shut down the city. Can you tell I'm pissed?" She sighed. "I don't know Lucio, maybe we should cancel the show."

"That's not happening, Olivia..."

 

* * *

 

Sombra sat at the spool scanning the news in her hand. She tapped her foot nervously. The omnics were getting in position but if non-Talon police stopped them she would be busted. The sound of a patrolling police helicopter came in through the broken skylight. It had passed several times before. Nothing she could do about it.

"How's it looking out there?" asked Bronson kneeling next to Sombra.

"The protests are growing, they're larger than I expected. I'm hoping the police can handle them today or they might cancel the festival," she said staring into the footage in her hand, trying to shut him out.

"Odd thing to hope, how are our omnic friends?"

"They're taking side routes to get in position. I told them to park inconspicuously."

"And Miguel?"

Sombra shifted in annoyance.

"He's studying his speech..."

Bronson laughed and smiled at her.

"You're nervous, I can see it," he prodded.

"B., I swear to god, if you fuck with me while I'm concentrating..."

"OK OK," he said, "I'll keep myself busy."

He retired to his room. Sombra got up and paced. Her former Los Muertos pups eyed her, she eyed them back aggressively. A wave of paranoia hit her. Did they respect her? What would they do in the coming days? Sombra reminded herself that she was crazy and it didn't matter. But the day wasn't even halfway over. She couldn't stand the waiting. She needed something, cigarettes, anything. There was a creeping depression chasing her.

"Hey!" shouted Sombra.

The Los Muertos looked away.

"Hey, you follow orders from Bronson but I'm the one paying you," she said scanning the room, "anyone want to make a little money, huh? Get out and blow off some steam?"

Sombra cursed and stood up when no one responded. The punk girl with the dye-job blonde hair from the other day approached her.

"You never told me how omnic brains work."

Sombra's eyes shifted.

"Here, go to this address, there's a guy named Marco, get a bag of heroin and some Delicados. Don't let him give you that black tar shit. I'll tell you when you get back."

Sombra gave her the card. The girl held it with both hands and thought for a moment before running off. Sombra, meanwhile, walked down the street to a pharmacy and grabbed a bag of insulin syringes, a lighter and some other works. When she returned to the squat the girl was waiting for her holding a black bag.

"That guy was weird," she noted.

Sombra chuckled and reached for the bag but the girl swiped it away. Sombra looked at her in disbelief.

"Oh?" she said with angry surprise.

"Tell me about omnic brains."

Sombra snatched the bag out of her hands.

"Fuck off, kid."

The girl rolled her eyes and stamped away.

Sombra wanted to be alone. She wandered down the squat's labyrinthine hallways. Everything was going according to plan but she couldn't help but feel off. Something had happened to her yesterday. Being home was starting to mess with her head, too much bad shit had happened to her here. Sombra found a bombed out bathroom with a vintage tub in the far back of the house. She turned on the water. To her disbelief it not only ran but grew hot. She lit a cigarette and gathered the necessary works to shoot up.

In a moment she was tying her arm and searching for a vein. The sound of a distant helicopter passed over head. As she concentrated on hitting her mark she could hear the faint sound of protesters and sirens in the background. She struck and plunged. It all faded away. The light in the room became too much so she closed her eyes.

Sombra nodded to the side as her cigarette fell out of her mouth. Everything felt comfortable. After a long while she came to from the sound of running bath water. She undressed and got in with a relaxed sigh.

Hours passed.

Suddenly, the air in the room changed. Sombra smelled smoke. Wind whipped and the dust curled. Sombra opened her eyes to see a dark figure manifesting before her.

"Sombra," it spoke.

Sombra shifted from the noise and sloshed the water. She forced her eyes to focus but it was difficult, her pupils were the size of pin holes. Finally, it came into proper view.

"Heyyy, Reaper. You lied to me, man. You said you didn't know what was going on here."

"A necessity for this mission..."

Sombra rolled her glazed eyes.

"Ugh, what's that about?"

"Protocol, you'd know if you ever followed orders." Reaper stepped towards Sombra's works, her unnaturally tiny pupils tracked him as he walked. "Back to your old ways I see."

"You know me too well, Reaper old pal," she said sitting up in the water with a smile, "Hey, this is great. We should speak Spanish more often, makes me feel like we're friends."

Reaper grunted.

"We're not friends..."

Sombra closed her eyes and let herself sink into the bath. Reaper whooshed in front of her like an owl. Inky smoke passed over her body.

"Nodding off?" he asked menacingly.

"Mmm, it feels like a dream..." she said then shook herself to.

"I'm here to tell you something..."

Sombra was nodding off again.

"Sombra! Pay attention!" She shot awake. "Francisco is moving the coup forward on my orders. It's happening tomorrow not the 10th. I'm here to give you a chance to do something about it. Not that you care."

"Your orders? Why would you do that to me, Gabe?"

Reaper chuckled darkly.

"It's not a problem is it? I more than trust your abilities. Talon wins either way," he replied. "So, who do I contact if your little plan somehow works?"

Sombra wracked her brain for a moment.

"Ah, yes. A country boy. Miguel Loya. You'll like him," she said with a grin.

"Never heard of him."

"We chose him yesterday. You'll hear more about him soon enough."

Reaper shook his head slowly.

"You know, I've overthrown quite a few governments in my time at Blackwatch. You know why we use people you would call fascists?"

Sombra shook her head, 'no.'

"Consistency, it's always the same people. They like to take jobs in the police and military. You know, positions of power. Top down structure is easier to deal with too"

Sombra's head swimmed. Normally she would have something pithy to say about such an impotent cast of fucks. 

"This is personal, Reaper. This is my country. I want people to have a future so-"

"They don't end up like you?"

Sombra's mind quickly flashed through her getting arrested, panicking about maybe being pregnant after sleeping with someone so she had a place to stay, EMT's pumping all the mood stabilizing medicine out of her stomach, scenes of anxiety and sadness throughout her life. At least she was numb to them now. She nodded off.

"Sleep," said Reaper as he whipped away.

If Sombra somehow got her act together, Reaper would be working with this Miguel soon enough. He had what he came for. Reaper dematerialized and was gone.

Sombra awoke to the sound of a tank rumbling up the street. Dust shook from the exposed rafters in the ancient bathroom.

Miguel rushed in.

"Sombra! What the hell are you doing? We were looking all over for you!"

"I fucked her, I really really fucked her," Sombra babbled incoherently.

"What are you talking about?!"

"Olivia," she laughed.

"Oh my God," said Miguel shaking his head. His boot scuffed against a spent hypodermic needle. He looked down. "You're high?"

"Do you think of me as a man, Miguel?"

"She's over here!" he shouted.

Shouting came from down the hallway and more people rushed in.

"Sombra, the protests are huge, the police are cracking down. There's a blackout on every station. It's a bloodbath out there. What do we do?"

"The thing is tomorrow... it's tomorrow. What's everyone's deal? It's too soon," she muttered.

Bronson stormed in. His eyes shot to the sink and Sombra's works.

"Did you take all this heroin?" he asked angrily, "answer me, Sombra!"

She nodded then closed her eyes. "It's good too. What can I say? I got sad, B."

"Get her out of there, get her coffee, get her coke. I don't care, we need to make a decision now!" Bronson barked.

They pulled her naked out of the bath and wrapped her in her clothes then rested her against the tub. She covered herself and shivered. The hair on her forearms stood up from the chill of the drafty room.

"Are you trying to fucking kill yourself?" asked Bronson shaking her wet body.

She lolled her head and looked at him with disconcerting eyes.

"Heh," she replied with a quick smile.

The Smart One rushed in with a loaded needle and before anyone could stop him plunged it into her arm and pushed the stopper. She gasped and twisted.

No rest for the wicked.

"What the fuck was that?!" asked Miguel, "you Los Muertos and your God damn drugs, are you trying to kill her? Where is my medic?"

"Meth," said the Smart One, "what? He said anything."

Miguel smacked him.

"Dude, chill, she'll just be speed balling..."

"Don't make me smack you again you little—"

Sombra interrupted.

"You fucking people can't let me enjoy myself in peace?" she shouted pulling the needle out and throwing it. "What? What? What the fuck is it?" she said hitting Miguel on each 'what.'

"Sombra, it's happening."

"No. No, it isn't. This is Portero. They are just bullying peaceful protesters. The coup happens tomorrow. It all happens tomorrow," she shouted. "Do we have anyone in position? No. Do we have any way of communicating with people? No." She counted off on her fingers. "This isn't my first rodeo, I've seen dozens of protests. I guarantee you Portero is impotent. He'll try to carry on business as usual as if nothing happened."

Bronson let go of her when he realized she was OK and frowned. She was back all right.

Sombra threw her neck back and groaned, "I can't believe you dirtied my high with this fucking trash."

She stood and waved her arms to get everybody out.

"Out!"

"Damn, she's hot," muttered the Smart One under his breath.

"Out!" Sombra repeated.

Sombra sighed to herself when the room finally emptied.

"Fuck."

She called Lucio's phone. His face appeared on her hand's holographic projector.

"Hey, Sombra. Naked again, I see," he answered.

"I'm not in the mood. Is everything prepared?"

"Yeah, it was hell but everything is ready."

"Good."

"You're lucky I brought my own crew because half the city is on strike. Its crazy out there. Do you really think people will come after today?"

"You'll draw them in. You're a revolutionary figure, the crowd will be political."

"Hey, that's my old fans..." Lucio caught himself. It was not wise to raise doubts now. "I'm sure it will work, Sombra."

"Yeah, whatever."

She cut the feed and knelt down to collect her wet clothes. What would she do to pass the time?


	12. Chapter 12

It was Dia de Los Muertos. The day was bright and clear but with a November bite on the wind. Lucio looked at the festivities below from the hotel suite's balcony. Music drifted up from the streets. People appeared festive but cops were everywhere. The sounds of helicopter blades and sirens were ever present in the background of the festival music.

Hana stood in the mirror of her hotel suite bathroom with some neon paint she picked up from a local convenience store. The man had overcharged her brutally thinking she was a tourist but she didn’t care. Her YouTube video on how to do Los Muertos style gang tattoos blared on.

Lucio stepped in and leaned on the door to the bathroom.

"What are you doing, baby?"

"Everyone's got them on, it's the fashion."

"'The fashion?' It's an appropriated style, I would even do classic Dia de Los Muertos face paint before going out in that."

"That's for tourists, besides you're getting Los Muertos paint for your concert."

"OK, I mean, I can do it because I'm Latino..."

Hana put on the finishing touches to her calavera and turned to Lucio.

"Do I look tough? I got this outfit from one of those corner stores..."

Hana had been down to the festival and was inspired.

"Baby, you sure you want that paint on today? The government's out there looking for people."

"You said it yourself, I'm not Latino. So, do I look tough or what?"

"Yeah, you look pretty tough. You look pretty hot."

"I know your type," said Hana rolling her eyes. She turned away and turned back frowning. "So, what's it going to be, _pendejo_?" she said imitating Sombra. "I'm Sombra, I fuck everything I can't kill. Don't be stupid, _cabrón_."

Lucio went wide-eyed it was too perfect.

"You know, I looked that up, you really shouldn't let her call you that," she said changing her voice back.

"The meaning is different in every country."

"Oh yeah, how does she mean it?"

"That's a good question..."

They left for the plaza. As they were driven they saw people out and about with Dia de Los Muertos paint. The state issued an order not to wear it or they would be potentially considered a hostile target. People were resisting.

They passed a cop tearing a grocery bag from a woman in Dia de Los Muertos paint, spilling the contents into the street, her son stood bawling next to her. Armored cops next to an APC stood by with their assault weapons as bystanders nervously looked on. Military vehicles blocked off major streets, surveillance drones and helicopters patrolled the skies.

"This city is going to blow up," Lucio whispered to Hana.

Hana suddenly felt awkward about her Los Muertos paint.

Francisco paced in his office. He was nervous. Months of planning and Reaper had decided to jump the gun. This was totally unforeseen. Half the coup forces were on riot duty. The police had been on double overtime since the leak and were stressed and exhausted.

"This is utterly insane," said Francisco sweating as he addressed a hapless underling. "How can we strike now? When we are so underprepared?"

There was no choice but to go through with it. Reaper would have his head if he delayed. He checked his watch, 3:30pm. The pointless festival parade they put together for foreigners had gone off without a hitch that morning. Maybe Los Muertos wouldn't strike today. No, they had tried something every year since the gang's inception. It was only a matter of time...

Things were tense at the squat. No one had slept. The Los Muertos were bitter that they decided not to join the protests and were forced to kill time. The only exchanges were silent looks of agitated boredom as they retouched their body paint and chain smoked. Bronson had restored Sombra's authority but the squat hated her. The punks simply sat around her waiting in silence for the inevitable. Miguel's men had already made their way over, posing as security staff.

It was 4pm.

Sombra nodded and they stood.

"Don't bring weapons. They're cached at the place. Take separate routes to the plaza to avoid suspicion. We can't afford to be stopped by the police," she said.

They piled out of the squat.

Meanwhile, Miguel and his men checked people in at the Plaza. Several militarized police with dogs stood at the entrance surveying the crowd as they lined up to enter. They harassed people up and down the line, singling out those in Dia de Los Muertos paint.

A punk stepped up to one of Miguel's men to be checked. He waved a metal detection baton over the punk's body. An observant person would notice that the baton had no batteries. Another of Miguel's men searched his bag. It was full of Molotov cocktails. He peered out of the corner of his eyes to see if anyone was looking then zipped the bag back up handing it back to its owner.

“You're good.”

Lucio sat in a dressing room as assistants prepared his stage makeup and Los Muertos body paint. Olivia reminded him the first show was at 5 and he was on at 6 after the opening acts. He blanked out when she mentioned the second show, there would be no second show tonight.

There was a knock on the door.

"We're incredibly busy!" snapped Olivia.

Lucio gestured to let whoever it was in. Olivia huffed and stamped to the door. She cracked it open. It was Sombra.

"What do _you_ want?" asked Olivia in a chilling tone.

Sombra kissed at her and chuckled before barging in with Bronson and Miguel in tow. Sombra had redone her Los Muertos body paint and was dressed for war.

Olivia tapped her foot impatiently as Sombra draped herself over Bronson and Miguel's shoulders. To Olivia they were nothing but degenerate gangsters. She wanted to know their business quickly so they could leave.

"A little privacy, Olivia?" asked Lucio.

Sombra stuck her obscene tongue out at her. She'd one-upped Olivia yet again.

Olivia scoffed. "You're all insane..." she muttered as she stepped out.

Sombra flared her long nails at her waving goodbye. "See ya, Olivia," she said with a salacious grin.

Olivia slammed the door shut behind her so hard that it opened again.

"We fucked," noted Sombra nodding towards the door.

The room joined in a collective mental facepalm.

Sombra approached Lucio and grabbed him by the hips.

"Woowww, look at you," she said affectionately as she ran her finger up his chest, "you look like a real Los Muertos. What do you think B?"

Sombra heard Hana clear her throat.

"Um, Sombra," said Lucio pointing to his fiancée.

"Do I even exist to you?" asked Hana indignantly.

"Right..." she replied as she pat Lucio on the chest. Sombra sauntered over to Hana with cool confidence. “Nice tats, Hana," she said taking Hana's cheek in her hand. Hana froze as Sombra inspected her face. "Very, um, fierce.” 

"Thanks..." Hana replied shyly.

Sombra smiled as she watched the gears spin in Hana's head. Satisfied that the room recognized her as the alpha, Sombra nonchalantly let go of Hana who silently kicked herself for being intimidated by Sombra. She stepped to the center and took a deep breath.

"It's happening. Can you feel it?" she said gripping the air in her fist, "Lucio, this is it. When I give the signal, rile up the crowd. When they are good and ready, let Miguel speak."

Lucio raised an eyebrow. He didn't know who Miguel was.

As if on cue, Miguel stepped up and shook Lucio's hand.

"Greetings, _compañero_. I'm Lt. Miguel Loya. I've heard so much about you," he said, his English a little stilted.

"Only good things, I hope..." replied Lucio rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand as he shook.

"We want to bring here what you did in Brazil"

"I hope you prepared something to say, Lucio," interrupted Sombra.

"I can wing it..."

Miguel ended his firm handshake and exchanged nervous glances with Bronson.

"Hana, be ready to bail your boyfriend out when this gets hairy," advised Sombra.

Hana blew a bubble and popped it indignantly at her. She hated Sombra so God damn much.

"Oh, one last thing, _amigos_ ," said Sombra with a sly look, "since you're all Los Muertos now, you get to party like us."

"What does that mean?" asked Hana.

"You too, Hana." She nodded to Bronson and he pulled out a mason jar with a mysterious brown liquid. "I spent all night making it."

She unscrewed the top and it made a pressurized pop. It was an unholy concoction of liquor, uppers and downers, gunpowder, hallucinogens and folk medicine Los Muertos claimed Aztec warriors took before battle. "Drink up," she said with an evil grin.

Bronson passed it to Lucio. He held it at face level and eyed it apprehensively. The crowd began to chant 'Lu-ci-o! Lu-ci-o!'

"No more time to waste, _cabron_. They're calling for you," said Sombra.

He could barely see Sombra through the jars murky liquid but he knew she was grinning at him like Satan.  _Bottoms up,_ he thought. He took a hefty swig and passed it to Hana with a gag. It tore through his throat like a bullet train through suicidal Japanese business men and crashed in his stomach. Immediately he felt nauseous. Hana shook her head in disappointment.

"Whatever, I guess!" she said with a tone of passive-aggressive resignation.

She did the same and gagged. She passed it to Miguel who shrugged and took a small sip. Sombra glared at him and he took a larger swig. Bronson cleared it and hucked it in the trash. Satisfied they were sufficiently dosed, Sombra huddled everyone together. At that precise moment, a paparazzi noticed the door halfway open, sneaked a flash photo and scampered off.

"Ignore him," said Sombra. "OK, everyone feeling weird?"

"Yeah..." groaned Hana.

Bronson's glassy look was gone and his eyes went vicious. Bronson had done dozens of gigs with Sombra before. His killer instinct crept in as he felt the familiar unearthly sensation of the unusual cocktail hitting his stomach. He was finally back. "It feels like old times"

"Ready to kill?" asked Sombra tightening her hold and pushing their heads closer together.

"I can't tell if I want to fuck or get in a fist fight," said Hana trying to get the taste out of her mouth.

"I feel like I could eat my own mother," said Miguel, "what is this stuff?"

Sombra gave a sinister chuckle.

"Working as intended..."

"Oh, that makes me so nervous," said Lucio in a foreboding tone.

Sombra looked each of them in the eye and watched the drugs hit their bodies. Their faces flushed as the unholy combination of chemicals careened through their stomachs and into their blood streams. Even Hana's eyes sharpened. Soon they were grinning at each other like a pack of hyenas.

"Everyone ready?" Sombra asked. They nodded. "Yeah? Let's fucking do this."

They broke and like lightning Sombra and the Los Muertos cleared the room to start their jam. Olivia rushed in when she saw them leave.

"Lucio, its mad out there, they chanted the opening acts off the stage. If you don't play it'll be a riot..."

 

* * *

 

Francisco stood with his hands behind his back in a military posture as he gazed out the window of his office. Several members of his staff stood waiting in anticipation. They exchanged nervous glances. He looked at his watch. It was time.

“Give the order,” he said.

“But sir, we are still dealing with protesters-”

“Doesn't matter,” he said shaking his head, “this is going through now.”

The younger officer hesitated.

“Do it or I'll execute you,” Francisco threatened.

“Yes, sir.”

The officer stepped out to the dispatch station to relay the order.

Another officer rushed in holding a phone.

“Sir, president Portero is on the line, he wants to speak with you personally.”

Francisco took the phone.

“Yes... yes... no, I assure you that the protesters are nowhere near your office. We have triple the military presence as we did last year... No, I wasn't aware of a Lucio concert happening only a few miles from your office. Surely matters of personal security are for your staff...”

Francisco slammed the phone down.

“Idiot,” he muttered.

He gestured to another officer.

“Prepare a squad,” he ordered. “You, with me. I'll lead the assault personally.”

Widowmaker watched a line of armored vehicles and militarized police standing in formation from the roof of a nearby building. Francisco left the station and exchanged salutes with several officers. He waved his arm and the police piled into the armored transports then pulled out of the staging area.

“He's making his move, right on time” she said over her com.

“Good...” Reaper replied coolly.

The Los Muertos conspirators pushed into the center of the plaza and made their way to the front of the crowd as it chanted Lucio's name. The field in the center of the plaza was now a massive dance space. People who were not willing to pay a fortune to be close to the action watched the show from the plaza seats. All the same, the show was planned to be a spectacle, even if the participants couldn't dance, the music and light show were sure to entertain.

Suddenly, the lights dimmed and the crowd erupted. An echoing electronic drumbeat filled the stadium as a darkened copula lowered from above the stage. All that was visible from the copula was Lucio's bobbing cigarette butt. Sombra was so glad he ditched the frog helmet.

The crowd loved the cold open. As he reached the ground massive monitors lit up displaying simplistic electronic art in grand scale. Procedurally generated 3D shapes using a pixel drawing library with Unicode Braille characters rotated and transformed across the screen as a simple 4/4 beat echoed over the massive speakers. He brought in a dirty synth line with a pounding EDM beat and the crowd was off, dancing and jumping, becoming a young sweaty mess—the sort of affair you'd want to experience from a helicopter. The song grew into an epic cinematic opener with a French electro-house church organ crescendo.

Sombra watched from the crowd, she had never seen Lucio's larger than life electronic music performances, only his underground shows, he had a bit of an enigmatic air to him. She was pretending not to be impressed but Lucio was absolutely killing it.

The song ended and the massive stage lights turned on Lucio, illuminating his booth. The crowd roared.

"What's up Mexico City?!"

The crowd erupted yet again. He eyed his phone, no word from Sombra. He kept his cool, ground out his cigarette on the booth table and crossfaded into the next song.

"Let's drop the beat!"

The lights went out on his booth and he let the next song build, lighting another cigarette as he worked.

The Los Muertos stood stoically in the crowd waiting for their signal as the masses danced around them. Lucio's act now underway. When would the plan kick off? The impending inevitability of it all and the mystery of what the rest of the night would hold bared down on Lucio. Hana joined him in the copula, swaying to the beat as she aristocratically looked down at the crowd.

"Give me a kiss," she said. Lucio kissed her lips without missing a beat. "Bleh, you smoke so much when you DJ," she said sticking out her tongue. Hana looked at him with bedroom eyes, she loved watching Lucio perform and show off his skills, it made her want for him to put the same attention into her. He caught her looking at him out of the corner of his eye. "Sombra's drink really put me in the mood," she said pressing into him and rubbing his back seductively, "I hope this thing doesn't go down so we can chill tonight..."

He swallowed. "Yeah, me too"

The night grew on.

Maybe Sombra would never send the cue, Lucio thought and hoped. Just as he had the thought, his phone buzzed. He checked it.

 _Do it_. No Caller-ID.

This was it. No turning back. He let the song finish and turned to Hana. She knew what was going on, she returned a judgmental look as if to say, "I can't help you." He looked across the stage, Miguel was waiting with a worried expression on his face. The crowd waited in anticipation for the next song. The silence was deafening. Lucio took a deep breath then tapped on the microphone awkwardly.

“Heya, Mexico City." The crowd cheered and chanted his name, he waited for them to simmer down. "Now, I just got here but its impossible to be blind about whats going on...” his voice boomed over the crowd, “I'm not from here but even I can tell that things aren't right.”

The crowd was hushed.

Sombra cringed, the idiot was speaking in English. How many people would understand? She tried to think on her feet. Did Miguel speak English? His confused expression seemed to indicate not well enough to translate. Maybe Lucio's popstar charisma would just carry the message through. No, that was stupid.

The plaza was struck into an awkward silence. Murmurs emerged from the crowd.

Suddenly, a woman in the crowd—a veteran from Lucio's days as an activist—shouted "Repeat after me!" as loud as she could and began shouting the translation.

“Since I've been here I've seen the police harassing normal people, making it impossible for people to just live their lives as they choose...” Lucio continued.

At first, a few scattered voices repeated but after each phrase more and more people joined in. Soon the pit crowd was yelling back what Lucio was saying in Spanish. The crowd in the lower bleachers repeated the last thing they heard from the pit crowd, then the upper bleachers repeated the last thing they heard from the lower bleachers and so on. It was working in waves, awkwardly, but it was working.

Would they accept the message?

Sombra tried to scan the crowd's faces to gauge their reaction as they shouted Lucio's speech. The police reacted quickly relaying to each other on their shoulder mounted walkie-talkies. Several officers violently shoved people out of the way as they made their way to the main stage.

“I can't stand by that. Can you?” A negative roar emerged from the crowd as the meaning sunk in. “I'm not going to stand by and let your government do this to you! Are you?!” The translated speech echoed through the crowd followed by a loud murmur of “No!”

Sombra's eyes lit up. She was in love with Lucio. He was doing it, he was actually doing it. His stupid activist fans were saving his ass with their cheesy human microphone.

“Now, I've got someone here, a man named Miguel Loya, a revolutionary from the FLN. You don't know him but he's the man who's going to make this right.”

Suddenly, Sombra's stomach dropped. Miguel's address was maybe too long and complicated. Lucio's simple message seemed to be working on people. She swallowed.

Miguel stepped to the microphone.

“I know you all wanted music but the time has come to take action. Last year on this day you revolted. You showed your power by taking to the streets and refusing to be governed. The O-31 Movement was born and it seemed like Portero's regime was doomed. In 6 weeks he returned after protests from reactionary elements falsely claiming to speak for all Mexicans, falsely testifying to the mass's desire to be governed and their love of the police, falsely claiming a democratic mandate and silencing the revolutionary forces that had barely begun to work. With U.S. support he returned and with violence he unlawfully restored his power through right-wing militias, terrorism, fear mongering and false religious populism. With the police and his intelligence agencies, he used kidnapping, rape and torture as weapons to expand and consolidate his power. He sold the country to corporations like Vishkar and Lumerico and waged war against the people by raising our taxes, enacting needless austerity measures, and crushing unions to increase his wealth.”

The crowd was hushed. There was discontented murmuring. Scattered shouts of " _¡Viva La Revolucion!_ ", " _¡Viva Los Muertos!_ " emanated from the crowd. Fist fights broke out between the cops and members of the crowd as they tried to force their way to the stage.

“Look at them now! How they try to intimidate you!” said Miguel pointing to a cop who had cleared a circle around him by drawing a gun. Distant booms and gunshots could be heard in the background. Francisco's coup forces were on the move. “Portero believes he understands death, that he can use it and your fear of it to control you. We are here to tell him that we have nothing to fear because we are already dead! We're what you get once you take away our right to live!”

The circle closed around the cop. Sombra breathed out in relief, it was working.

“Today is a holiday which is not altogether stupid: the living pay their respects to the dead. In light of recent events the dead demand more. It is a choice. Take up the call of the dead and damned, be the revenants of the persecuted, reconcile your friends and loved ones who died in the uprising or who are rotting in jail. Let every failed revolution and revolutionary be vindicated by our actions here and now. Let us help our comrades who are out there _right now_  on the Paseo de la Reforma protesting. Let them know that Portero will pay for his actions! This will be the day of Judgment for Portero and the resurrection of our movement. Its time for us to rise again!”

An XLR cord was unplugged and Miguel was silenced. He turned to see that several cops had managed to push their way past Miguel's men and make it on to the stage. They approached with their guns drawn and repeatedly shouted for him to immediately cease and desist. Hana reflexively ducked down and drew her pink gun.

The crowd became discontent as they watched the standoff on stage. The fans in front found anything they could to throw at the police. Bottles broke at their feet. The cops lowered their heads and tried to block the onslaught of debris with their hands. Suddenly, a confused cop accidentally discharged his pistol and chaos erupted.

Screams and sporadic gun shots broke out. The encircled cop fired into the air as he was engulfed by the angry crowd. One of Miguel's men got a potshot off on a surprised police officer since they hadn't yet realized concert security staff were the enemy. With each shot the crowd became increasingly nervous and frenzied as they variously tried to escape or express their outrage at the cops.

On stage, the police went for Lucio and Miguel as several other officers took over the PA system.

“This is now an illegal gathering...” the sound system blared, "please remain calm and leave in an orderly fashion."

More officers arrived on stage while the cops at the head of the pit brandished their guns to intimidate the crowd into pushing back from the stage. Miguel's men rushed in to help and took up positions behind the stage equipment, engaging with the small pistols they were able to sneak in on their person. It was looking like they were going to be shut down. Miguel, however, simply stood his ground and glared at the cops contemptuously, even as the gunfight erupted around him.

A bullet whizzed by Hana's head as Miguel's men and the police engaged. Hana spotted the bastard who did it.

" _Ee babuya!_ " she shouted as she broke her cover and unloaded several energy bolts into his face. He dropped to the ground, dead. The cops returned fire.

"Hana, what are you doing?!" hissed Lucio pushing her head down.

"Hey! I can handle myself!"

One of Miguel's men emerged with a cached heavy weapon and let out a spray of automatic fire. The crowd lost it. It started to stampede. The cops at the head of the stage panicked and fired into the crowd. Immediately, people were trampled underfoot in the panic. Lucio drew his audiogun and emitted a massive sonic wave. It emanated into the crowd protecting them from the onslaught of bullets and their own trampling feet. As it washed over them, they suddenly felt oddly relaxed and refreshed.

The cops stood petrified as they realized with horror that their guns were having no effect.

Sombra used the diversion to throw her translocator on the stage and with a purple flash she was there unloading a hail of bullets onto the confused cops. Sombra and Miguel's men slayed the helpless cops, Lucio scrambled to the microphone and gestured to a confused and fearful stagehand to plug him back in. After a quick burst of feedback, Lucio's voice boomed over the crowd.

"People, stop!" he shouted. The crowd was taken aback from the sheer immensity of his voice. "You're safe now, but ya'll are trampling each other to death! Help your neighbors off the ground and get anyone who's injured out of here to a hospital. Do you get it?" He gave them a moment to calm themselves and comply. Miguel's men went on the move, hauling the stashed caches of weapons to the stage. "Now, you all saw what happened. If you don't like it...” Miguel had just pulled an assault rifle from a crate, barely paying attention to Lucio's address. He strapped it over himself then cocked and loaded it. Around him, his men were stripping off their concert security jackets and donning FLN armbands and fatigues. Lucio stepped to Miguel's side and held up his arm, “Do something about it and follow this man!"

Miguel watched 40,000 people cheer. His eyes almost began to tear up in disbelief. Lucio let go and they were still cheering. Miguel realized that the cheering was for him. The crowd had just witnessed him and his men protect them from the police.

He made a fist with his raised hand. “Down with Portero!” he shouted and the crowd went wild.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It feels like there are so many moving pieces to this thing at this point. I'm hacking this out in a frenzy on my iPhone so there will be problems. I'll definitely be coming back to this chapter periodically to tighten things up.

As the sun set the crowd poured out of the Toros Plaza gates into the streets splitting into two massive groups. The police assigned to the concert were quickly overrun. In the chaos, Sombra, Bronson and Miguel became separated from Hana and Lucio.

Lucio jumped into the crowd to try to get them to exit in a somewhat orderly fashion. Hana followed after him grasping his hand tightly. He held her close as the crowd surged and they were carried by the tide of people towards the exits. When they finally breached the exits they hugged tightly.

Lucio felt his phone buzz. He checked it, it was Olivia.

_I quit._

He vomited. Hana immediately followed suite.

"I think I killed a cop," she said wiping her mouth.

"Yeah, I saw that," groaned Lucio.

"It was awesome."

"What? No, that's just the drugs..." said Lucio somewhat unnerved, "besides it was self defense."

Whatever the case, he was glad to have Sombra's noxious concoction out of his stomach.

The couple watched the crowd stream out of the plaza and push into traffic. Enraged drivers honked their horns at the concert goers turned protesters. Several stormed out of their cars in a rage to start yelling matches. A number of people were just trying to get away but Los Muertos and other masked protesters quickly went for plate glass windows, ATMs and security cameras. Lucio and Hana's eyes panned over the chaos.

Suddenly, he realized that a small crowd was looking at him. Hana tugged on his shirt.

“Lucio, what do we do?”

“I don't know...”

Lucio tried to explain to the crowd that he didn't speak Spanish and that he was trying to leave.

A girl with braided brown hair stepped forward.

“Lucio, I know what you said up there but, some of us don't trust Los Muertos. You're a hero, you can lead us.”

“That was a long time ago and this isn't my country. I don't even speak Spanish...”

She stepped closer.

“Lucio, I'm Alejandra, I'll translate for you if you let me,” she said earnestly, “please, we love you. Its OK you're not from here, we need you to protect us.”

Hana stared at Lucio. She so badly just wanted to get out of the chaos and get her stupid Los Muertos tattoos off. But she could tell this was something greater. Lucio always did what was right.

“I'll do it, but where are we going?” he asked.

“Zócalo square, of course, where all the protests happen,” Alejandra replied.

Lucio turned to the crowd and used his audio gun like a bullhorn.

“We're going to Zócalo!”

The young girl somewhat unexpectedly took the gun from Lucio's hands and shouted the translation. The crowd cheered and she handed the gun back to Lucio.

“OK, so we'll have like a rhythm,” he said with a nod.

Alejandra smiled and a warm feeling overcame him. He felt a great darkness pass. He was free from Sombra, he'd done his part of the deal, he could do this his way now.

“This will be non-violent! If you want to be violent and hateful don't come with me!” he shouted.

Alejandra took the audio gun and repeated him. To Lucio's surprise the crowd cheered. He scanned their faces. Some of them were wearing classic Dia de Los Muertos paint but there were no Los Muertos gang tattoos or balaclavas or masks among them. These were good folk.

“I'm keeping _my_ gun...” muttered Hana.

“Alright, lets move it people!” he shouted as he started pumping a song.

On the other side of the plaza Sombra, Bronson and Miguel made their way out with a small contingent of FLN and Los Muertos hauling crates of weapons. As the crowd passed by, a number of militants and radicals helped themselves to weapons and ammunition, other folks pat them on the back and expressed relief that someone was finally doing something, while others expressed total disgust in the violence. The majority, however, just wanted to get as far away from the violence as possible but no one dared stop them. Once the conspirators were outside they stumbled and crashed the heavy weapons crate down in the parking lot. A heated political argument about the ethical use of violence between two Lucio fans broke out behind them as Miguel coordinated with his men to distribute weapons.

“Miguel,” shouted Sombra assertively, "once we've offloaded the weapons, order your men to push ahead towards Los Pinos. Cover the crowd from the rooftops and make sure they don't get bogged down.”

“This is anarchy, Sombra. These people aren't trained. You're going to get them killed,” said Miguel watching people fumble as they locked and loaded their weaponry.

“This is what we're doing, you see a way of stopping it now?” snapped Sombra, “These people have been getting their asses kicked for three days. Let them have their revenge. In the mean time, you just stay in front and try and look like a leader, yeah?”

Bronson pulled a massive Russian machine gun from the weapons crate.

"The time for criticism has long passed _c_ _ompañero,_ " he said feeding a bullet belt into the gun and locking it, "best do what the lady says."

Miguel scowled, this was going to be a total circus.

Sombra turned to the Los Muertos militants assembling near the weapon crate. They were a ragtag group dressed in black, sporting a mishmash of bandanas, surgical masks, gas-masks and skateboard helmets. The only thing consistent about them were their slowing tattoos. They were ready for war.

"Los Muertos," she shouted, "take your grenades, pipe bombs and Molotov cocktails. Don't fucking throw them at the first thing you see, wait for my signal. When I say 'now,' you throw it at the most expensive looking piece of military hardware you see. Understand?"

The Los Muertos replied with adamant nods, chuckles, and murmurs of acknowledgement.

"The rest of you," shouted Sombra turning to the other protesters, "you're following me and this guy." She pointed to Bronson. "We're going to Los Pinos to send a message. Lt. Miguel's men will protect us from the rooftops. They'll join us on the ground when they've cleared the way."

Sombra smiled and looked at Miguel. He was talking with his men. Miguel felt her eyes on his back and looked over his shoulder. The crowd was looking at him. "Say something," she said nudging her elbow into him.

"Umm, brave dissidents," he announced, "not all of you will agree with violence but I assure you these weapons are for your protection. If today is like yesterday, the police will show no restraint. The FLN will do its best to protect you but some of you will die. Follow orders and stay together. Standing up to Portero makes all of you heroes already, there is no need to martyr yourself. Do your best to keep your lives, its better to fight another day. Welcome to the war _compañeros..._ "

 

* * *

  

Mexico City was a war zone.

Police helicopters and drones surveying the city relayed information to Campo Militar 1 and the Federal District Police headquarters. Orders went out to redeploy forces from Coyoaćan district towards Tlalpan to halt the crowd by any means necessary before they reached the highway. The security forces, however, were already tied down with other protests and a number of federal police units were unresponsive. Fuerza Civil in armored personnel carriers double-timed it to Rio Becerra and unloaded riot police to meet the advancing protesters.

At the head were experienced anarchists, left-wing militants and anti-fascists who had skirmished with police many times before. As word got out that the protests were growing, anti-government groups of all stripes showed up with their makeshift shields and flags laden with left-wing symbols—hammer and sickles, antifa logos, red and black squares—to take advantage of the moment. Their goal was to shut down the highway. As the cops came into their view they chanted their slogans and pounded their shields.

The police officers smirked at one another and made lewd jokes as they took off their badges and readied their weapons. Yesterday had been a massacre, the gloves had come off and they were given tacit permission to do whatever they wanted to the protesters.

They were loving this. They were making double overtime.

“This is it!” shouted the police sergeant.

He gave the signal and the police APCs fired their smoke and teargas canisters into the protesters as armored cops rushed in armed with batons and shotguns loaded with “less than lethal bullets.”

The formation of protesters collapsed as they were pummeled with noxious fumes then charged by the phalanx of riot police. The cops were out for blood. They ruthlessly encircled isolated protesters foolish enough not to run and beat their heads and capped their knee caps until they collapsed to the ground. They were especially cruel to armed protesters, forming protective circles around the cops brutalizing their victims to make sure that no one would interfere with their dirty work.

As the smoke and teargas cleared, the protesters scattered from the violence as usual. The police, however, didn't suspect that tonight would be different. Miguel's men had made their way to their positions during the violence.

The cops heard a woman's voice sound from down the street, “Its kill or be killed! Raise hell!”

Scattered gunfire erupted from the rooftops and bullets whizzed by the officer's heads from all directions. The police were surrounded by sharpshooters. They threw down their batons and drew their sidearms taking battle stances, frantically aiming their weapons to find the gunmen.

“Keep them off balance,” ordered Miguel calmly through his voice com as he watched the battle unfold from a rooftop, “kill the cops that stand their ground”

A FLN guerrilla posted in a window aimed his semi-automatic rifle and fired as a father huddled his confused family together behind him. Another cop down. They'd finally brought the war in the countryside into the city.

On the street, the protesters rushed in with a roar and sporadic gunfire.

“Move those vehicles up to cover that squad!” ordered the police sergeant watching the action safely behind the APCs. A reserve battalion sat behind him. The police consistently outnumbered the protesters. Even now the sergeant knew they had the advantage. “Load lethal ammunition, not one step back!”

The APCs pushed in to provide support for the suppressed police officers firing their teargas canisters and popping obscuring smoke. The police used the cover to regroup and the protesters were forced to fall back.

“Sir, we can't see through the smoke,” shouted a guerrilla over his com.

Miguel cursed, Sombra and Bronson would have to handle themselves down there.

"Hold your fire unless you have a clear shot!" he snapped, "try not to hit the protesters."

The less committed elements fled from the fumes. Bronson stood tall firing his belt-fed machine gun indiscriminately into the smoke. Sombra covered her mouth and lobbed a teargas canister back at the police. Several protesters followed her example and did the same. 

Suddenly, the APCs and a formation of regrouped riot police charged from the smoke firing wildly into the crowd. Several unlucky protesters caught bullets with their chins and fell dead in the street. The crowd scattered while the more disciplined elements ran to cover behind cars and in alleyways.

Sombra realized she was going to lose momentum if she didn't do something. The less they were a mass and the more this turned into a shooting war the more they would lose. She glanced at Bronson and nodded. He nodded back in acknowledgment.

“Now!” she shouted.

The Los Muertos rushed from their cover pelting the armored vehicles and police with Molotov cocktails and fireworks. Overcome with flames, the panicked drivers frantically reversed away from the crowd. In a minute it was all over. The officers tried to scatter as they were variously engulfed in flames and riddled with bullets. The armed protesters closed in on the exposed cops and mowed them down. 

“See? They're just men!” shouted Sombra.

The police sergeant watched as the flaming APCs retreated out of the smoke. The first blindly went over a concrete barrier and flipped on its side. The second APC came to a stop and a crewmen popped out with a fire extinguisher to desperately try and put out the flames. The cops eyed each other nervously as they were subjected to frantic radio chatter and confused cries for help from the other side of the smoke screen. 

The armed protesters looked on awe at what they had just done, struck by the power of their weapons. Many of them had never even held a gun in their life. A number of protesters neurotically unloaded their weapons into the felled cops and cursed their lives. Many of them had lost friends and family to cops in the preceding days.

“Hold your positions,” shouted the sergeant.

A terrified cop began to quake and panic, armed protesters were not in the cards for him. He threw off his helmet and ran for the highway.

“Ignore him, he's dead!” roared the sergeant, “anyone else runs and I will execute them!”

The cops in front readied their riot shields. No one had the confidence that their equipment could stop bullets. They weren't stupid, actual bullet proof shields were metal and had to be pushed around on wheels. They were only staying because of their sergeant's threats. As the smoke screen dissipated, the sergeant craned his neck to try to get a look at how many protesters were armed. Out of nowhere, a stray bullet nicked him on the side of the head and he was killed instantaneously. The cops watched in terror as their leader slump dead to the ground. Almost immediately, they threw down their weapons and ran.

The crowd gave chase.

 

* * *

 

Portero sat at his desk, now a purely symbolic position of authority. His aides and staff were making frantic calls trying to get a bearing on the situation. His body guards stood behind him uncomfortably.

"Get the district battalion commander on the line! What's happening with the federal police? Why can't I get a hold of the interior secretary? Or anyone?! What the hell is going on out there?!" Portero shouted in his baritone voice. "Will someone answer me?!"

"Sir, it looks like a coup."

"A coup? Led by whom?"

"We don't know, it's looking like elements of the military and federal police"

"How could you idiots not have known?! How could this happen? Prepare my motorcade, I'm not dying in my office."

"Sir, we've been preparing your motorcade. We're clearing a safe route but the building is surrounded by protesters and coup forces," said one of his security staff. "But, there's another thing..." he added hesitantly.

“But what?” snapped Portero.

The serviceman exhaled nervously. The reality was grim and he was sure he'd take the flack for it. “We don't know who in the military we can trust. It might not be coming at all.”

Portero eyed the man fearfully. "So I'm stuck here?!"

"So far we know the only people we can trust are in this room. Right now, this is the safest place for you."

Suddenly a man in a suit burst in with a submachine gun yelling wildly. He sprayed his weapon recklessly at Portero but managed to miss every shot. Portero's bodyguards drew their pistols like lightning and gunned the assailant down. He fell limp to the ground.

"That man gets me my security briefings every day!" shouted Portero emerging from behind his desk, "this is madness!"

"Sir!" shouted one of Portero's aides rushing into the room and stepping over the dead body. "I have the district battalion commander on the line. He says all forces are engaged with the protesters."

"Which forces are fighting the protesters and which are fighting the coup?"

"He says it's hard to tell since they're all currently fighting each other at the same time"

Portero's nostrils flared.

"I should strangle him. It's 'hard to tell'?!"

"I'm paraphrasing..."

Portero's eyes widened with offense.

"Why you little- shut this down! I want control of my city! If anyone even suspects someone of being a traitor I want them executed. No word of this gets out!"

The aide held up a hand and pressed his ear piece to listen to an incoming communication.

“Sir, this is urgent, the commander says that an armored column is on Constituent's ave approaching this building. They aren't responding to orders. It looks like a mixed unit, sir. Army and federal police.”

“That's practically right outside...”

Francisco stood in his tank's copula and surveyed the carnage as he rolled up the street. Francisco’s forces had cut a bloody swath through loyalist forces and protesters alike and were about to tighten the noose on Portero in Los Pinos. Their bodies littered the street behind the advancing column. His men had stripped all identification off their uniforms and donned balaclavas to hide their identities, they were armed to the teeth with assault weapons and heavy armor. The coup forces rounded the corner heading up the narrow drive to Los Pinos. A bullet ringed off of the tank from a presidential guard sniper.

"Prepare for battle!" shouted Francisco lowering the hatch and ducking inside the tank.

Heavy gunfire broke out as the presidential guards fired from their positions at the advancing coup forces. Francisco's heavy tank smashed through an improvised blockade of black SUVs, his coup soldiers followed tentatively on foot.

Sombra's omnic watched the fight from a delivery zone that had been poorly surveyed since the protests broke out. He was waiting for Sombra's order and it was getting to be now or never.

The fight came into his view. The presidential guard unloaded their weapons at the advancing tank as they stepped back in a tactical retreat. The omnic watched a dead guardsmen spiral to the ground after being caught by a spray of bullets. A smoke grenade went off and he ducked for cover. More scattered gunshots followed by a blast from the tank's main gun and the guardsmen were annihilated. The coup soldiers moved up to secure the area as a state news helicopter hovered above.

"Coup forces are closing in on the presidential residence. It's looking like 50 or so heavily armed soldiers with various uniforms from the police and armed forces. We don't know if president Portero is on site. So far they've made no demands... Hold on... I've just been informed that this is restricted airspace and we're being ordered to land. Given the dubious authority of this order we'll continue our exclusive coverage of these unfolding events live..."

Sombra watched the transmission in her hand when it was suddenly cut and turned to static.

"Do it," she ordered tersely.

The omnic peered up from under the dashboard with his eyes alight. Soldiers were surrounding him.

"You, omnic. Step out of the vehicle."

If he didn't do it now he'd lose his chance. The omnic gunned the accelerator and flattened several soldiers against his bumper.

"Stop that truck!"

He rounded the corner and blew by a main battle tank. It's turret turned slowly as it tried to track the vehicle and line up a shot. The hover coils pulsed brightly as he fed them as much power as possible. He rounded another corner. No gate, no bollards. Presidential guards had set up another useless barricade of armored SUVs. They fired uselessly on the truck before diving out of the way at the last minute. The truck smashed right through the middle and barreled towards Los Pinos.

"No..." uttered Francisco as his tank cleared the corner and trained its main gun on the truck.

The omnic was feet away from the main entrance.

"Don't fire on that tr-" the words left Francisco's mouth just as his gunner fired a 120 mm high explosive round from the tank's smoothbore gun. It rocketed past the presidential guard formation towards the truck. Suffice it to say, if omnics could sweat this omnic's pores would be a river delta of adrenaline infused stress water. Instead he calmly counted down the number of feet to impact and the fulfillment of his recently acquired life's purpose.

"What was that?" asked Portero in his office.

"I-," started one of his staff, surely to explain that he didn't know.

_KABOOM!_

A massive section of the building collapsed as it was rocked by an explosion. The windows of the nearby buildings shattered from the seismic force of the explosion as presidential guard and coup soldiers alike were knocked off their feet from the blast.

Francisco opened the copula of his tank and shouted to his bewildered and disoriented men.

"Move, move, move! Find Portero! Don't let him escape!" he shouted pointing hysterically at Los Pinos.

Bullets whizzed past them from behind. Coup soldiers and presidential guard were killed where they lay. It was Miguel's FLN troops. Francisco dove back in and pounded his fist against the inside of the tank in frustration. "Fuck!"

Heavy machine gun fire broke out. The tank swiveled its turret towards the direction of the fire. No sight of enemy troops.

"Use heat vision," shouted Francisco.

The gunner switched and they could see the FLN squad moving in the forest surrounding the building on the tank's gun camera.

"Light them up, make it quick, we can't lose Portero."

Grenades landed in the scattered formation of coup d'etat troops as they tried to recover and get in a fighting position. They were wiped out. A group of defending troops managed to get to the tank for cover but they quickly found it was moving.

_Boom!_

The tank fired and a FLN soldier in the woods turned into a blood cloud. An FLN guerrilla swore and opened a channel with Miguel. Usually he would be leading them but he was moving with the protesters at Sombra's insistence.

" _Compañero_ , we hit enemy armor, we need support!" came the soldier's distorted voice over Miguel's com piece.

"Damn it," Miguel cursed as he moved up Constituents ave in a captured armored car.

Sombra along with several Los Muertos and armed protesters held on to the side of the car firing their weapons wildly into the air. Miguel realized the protesters were moving too slowly. They were not a mobile fighting force.

"Sombra, my men need me, I'm breaking away."

"Miguel, you need to look like a leader to these people!" she shouted back.

Miguel scowled at how superficial Sombra was. His men were dying. "Absolutely not, we have a mission."

Sombra cursed. "Fine, I'm coming with you. I'm not letting you have all the glory"

Sombra addressed the protesters following in tow, "we're moving on Portero! Hop on!"

Cheers and gunshots emerged from the crowd. Protesters ran up to mount the tank. Sombra helped them aboard as they accelerated. Bronson, meanwhile, was walking with the protesters in the street. He was barely able to shout “where are you going?” before Sombra and Miguel motored off. He would have to manage the protesters on foot...

"Stay low! Stay low!" shouted an FLN soldier back at Los Pinos, "that tank is killing us!"

Another shell exploded followed by dying shouts.

"They're reloading move up!"

The FLN used the brief window created by the explosion to close in on the coup soldiers and presidential guard alike. They unloaded on the traitorous police and felled several of them. They still had them off-guard but the tank was a major problem.

"Come on. Come on. Reload!" shouted Francisco to his tank crew.

He was picking the FLN off one at a time but it was far too slow. He tapped his foot impatiently as the tank's turret slowly acquired its targets.

An FLN soldier got in position with a rocket propelled grenade. He fired. The modern tank's machine gun turret rapidly swiveled and fired on the projectile. It exploded mid-air. The tank returned fire and another FLN soldier was liquidated.

"Sir, we have company," said a crewmen in Francisco's tank.

The tank's targeting device zeroed in on an approaching armored car laden with protesters. He recognized a face of one of its passengers.

"It's her!" he said.

He tapped his foot nervously. Francisco weighed the pros and cons of killing Sombra. Would Talon ever find out? The situation was too complex. He knew that Sombra would probably do the same to him.

"Sir, what do we do?"

"Forget the guerrillas, fire on that vehicle," ordered Francisco.

Miguel's driver's eyes popped when he saw a massive enemy tank down the road. Its turret swiveled towards them. It had noticed them.

"Everyone off!" roared Miguel. "Get to the side! Get to the side!"

They piled off the vehicle as the driver panicked and pounded the accelerator. The tank fired barely missing the car as it veered off the road. A hail of machinegun bullets followed and sparked off the car's armor. The would-be militants scrambled to cover. They were suppressed.

"Fucking incompetent!" shouted Miguel lying in the ditch, "he almost got us all killed!" Miguel got on his com. "I'm here, I'm here, I see the tank!" He cocked his rifle hastily and shouted to Sombra, "this is a war zone! Why did you bring these people here?!"

Sombra scoffed. "You want me to deal with the tank?" She spit then stood and marched towards the menacing war machine. "I'll deal with the fucking tank..."

"Are you insane?!" shouted Miguel as she disappeared.

The tank fired a burst from its machine gun and she suddenly reappeared falling to the ground clutching her leg.

"That was stupid! That was stupid! They have heat vision!" she cried.

Sombra's mind reeled from pain. She calculated her options and threw her translocator into the woods flitting away.

"Fuck!" she moaned as she materialized over the beacon.

Sombra was just barely in range of the tank. If she crawled closer and charged her EMP in time she might live...

"Where did she go?" roared Francisco inside the tank.

His gunner shrugged.

"Out of my way, let me see that!" he said pushing the gunner out of his chair. He adjusted the scope and panned. No sign of Sombra but he noticed the fight was now going more in his favor. Francisco continued to search nervously. Finally, she came into view, although somehow she had gotten much closer. "She's right there! Do I have to do everything myself?!"

Francisco grit his teeth and trained the gun on her. He pressed a button on the targeting scope to load an anti-infantry shell so she wouldn't escape. He heard it rattle and clunk as it was loaded into the firing mechanism. He pressed the 'fire' buttons on either side of the scope with his thumbs and waited for the inevitable blow back from the massive cannon.

Just then the screen winked out.

"What the hell?"

He pressed the 'fire' button repeatedly. Nothing. He hit the screen in frustration.

"Russian piece of shit!" he shouted.

Miguel's men closed on the disabled tank and the now outgunned coup forces. Sombra forced herself to stand holding her leg. She limped at as fast a pace as she could towards the tank, maniacally chuckling and muttering to herself like a mad woman. A coup soldier popped out of cover to fire on her. She quickly dispatched him with a spray of bullets.

"Come on you fucks," she muttered as she hauled herself forward.

Another popped out on the right and she hosed him down with a chuckle. She finally reached the tank and struggled to mounted it.

The tank reactivated to resume its reign of terror but there was a problem.

"Sir, something's blocking our gun camera"

Francisco crossed his arms and tapped on his bicep impatiently as he eyed the crewmen that had just spoken in utter contempt.

"Well, get out there and fix it," he ordered impatiently. His men exchanged apprehensive glances. "Do it now!" he shouted hysterically.

A crewmen opened the hatch then appeared to struggle with something outside.

"Just what the hell is going on up there?!" roared Francisco.

He lowered himself back in with his hands up. Sombra dropped down behind him and cursed her leg as she leveled her gun at the crew. A single misplaced bullet would ricochet throughout the tank and kill them all.

"Francisco, fancy meeting you here..." said Sombra with an evil grin.

"Agent Sombra," he replied nervously.

"If I wasn't mistaken, I would think you were trying to kill me. I thought that was against Talon's rules"

"Fog of war, you must understand," he said with a nervous smile.

She grit her teeth and unleashed a spray of bullets into his face with her machine pistol. A stray bullet ricocheted three times and struck a crewmen in the arm. He collapsed wailing in pain.

"Yeah, I get it," she said coolly.

"Are you insane? You'll kill us all!" shouted a crewmen.

"Shut up," she snapped pointing her gun at him.

The surrendered crew piled out of the tank and lined up with the other captured soldiers in front of the FLN guerrillas. Protesters led by Bronson were arriving on the scene from the rear. Miguel approached Sombra as she climbed out of the tank.

"I, uh, didn't know you could do that," he said.

Sombra shrugged. "What, do you want to marry me now?"

"You? No. Really, no."

Sombra narrowed her eyes at him. “I'm fucking injured, Miguel. A little help would be appreciated”

Miguel cleared his throat. “Ah, of course,” he said, “Antonio!” He waved his medic over.

Once Sombra was attended to he turned to coordinating with Bronson and the assembling protesters. Miguel eyed the militants as they trickled in and picked the dead Presidential Guard and coup soldiers clean of ammunition and weaponry. This had become real combat, untrained protesters and wannabe anarchists would be a liability.

"Bronson, welcome to the show, _c_ _ompañero,_ " said Miguel as he approached, "we will need you to stay out here and defend the building."

"No, I'm going in with you, you need the manpower. Less than 25 men can't take a whole building"

Miguel stepped in to confide with Bronson out of earshot of Sombra.

" _Compañero,_ this is real warfare against a highly trained and equipped enemy. They will cause more problems then they will solve."

Bronson looked to the left then the right with an incredulous expression before speaking.

"Miguel, we are at the center of power," he said putting his hand on Miguel's shoulder, "these people are thirsty for revenge. I will not be the one to explain to these people why they now need to stand back and show restraint."

Miguel's eyes narrowed, this was an annoying subversion of his authority. This Los Muertos fetishization of the mob was becoming a nuisance. Bronson looked upward pensively then snapped his finger.

"Tell you what, I will take volunteers if that will make you feel better," said Bronson, "but there is no way the people will not be involved in this historic moment."

"This will be a bloodbath..." Miguel replied but he could see there was no arguing with Bronson. "Fine," he uttered in frustration before turning to address the crowd. "We're clearing this building, elite presidential guard troops are still inside..."

Bronson spit as Miguel spoke then surveyed Los Pinos with grim eyes. So much insidious shit happened in there. Violence seemed to radiate from the building. The Presidential Guard would fight for every inch it. 

 

* * *

 

A bodyguard helped Portero out from under the rubble as the sprinkler system drenched the room and sounded a rapid alarm bell. The once elegant neoclassical presidential office was totally trashed by the explosion.

“So, this is the safest place, huh? If we survive this, consider yourselves replaced,” Portero roared.

“Sir...” said the guard forebodingly.

Portero's eyes panned the room. Several aides and members of his staff had been crushed by falling beams and debris. The rest were struggling to help each other and put out fires. A guardsmen was at the window firing his submachine gun at the approaching forces.

“Armed protestors have entered the building, we're moving you below,” the guard warned with deadly seriousness.

“Below? I'll be trapped. Where's that motorcade?”

The bodyguard shook his head.

“The building is still surrounded, there's communication equipment below. You'll be safe until we can secure the building”

Another bodyguard approached and handed Portero a gun.

“Sir, you've had military training?”

“I did,” he said grabbing and cocking it, "my service was distinguished."

“We're moving you out.”

His guards huddled him towards the door.

“If I survive this I'll consider that welfare reform bill. I'd rather work with liberals then get killed,” he muttered.

Gunfire erupted from somewhere in the building as ambient booms sounded in the background. His guards hustled him to the basement stairs. A large mustachioed protester carrying a machine gun rounded the corner in time to see Portero enter the stairwell.

“He's in here!” the protester shouted.

A bodyguard with quick reflexes managed to snap off a shot on him before closing the door and locking it. The man collapsed to the ground grasping at his neck. Shouts came from the upper levels of the stairwell as the guards tried to cover Portero while they descended. Bullets ricocheted off the steps as they bounded downward as fast as humanly possible. A guardsmen stayed behind to cover their retreat, firing into the upper levels.

“Go! Go!” he shouted waving his arm.

The guard was felled in a moment of distraction. Another guard broke away from the detail and laid down covering fire.

Soon Portero and his entourage were at the bottom. They booked it down a long utility hallway and made a series of hectic turns until they arrived at a heavy metal door with a keypad. A guard frantically entered a security code and it revealed a panel demanding multi-factor authorization. Two other guards took out their IDs and scanned them. The bolts unlocked and the door slowly swung open revealing long hallway with a utility elevator running on emergency power at the opposite end. Two guards stayed behind as Portero squeezed his hefty build through the crack of the slowly opening door followed by his guards. He and the two remaining members of the detail hustled down the hallway, a series of heavy doors closed behind them. They rode the elevator down into a hardened room. It was a cold war era bunker designed to allow the president to continue to govern under the most dire of circumstances.

Portero stepped off.

The race was over, he had escaped with his life.

 

* * *

 

Sombra ran to Bronson's side as he lay splayed out on the floor next to his machine gun. He'd been shot in the neck. She desperately dragged his heavy body against the wall and tried to tend to him.

"Miguel!" Sombra screamed. "No no noo, Bronson! You'll be OK, big guy," she said tearfully as she knelt next to him.

He struggled to make a sickening swallow then gave a bloody cough. Seeing the blood sent Sombra into a panic, she repeatedly pressed her palms against his body with uncertainty. She had no idea what to do.

"I'm really done for, Sombra..." he said looking at her with exhausted eyes.

Sombra became horrified as it dawned on her that there was nothing she could do. She gripped her pink hair and mouthed 'no' repeatedly as she was sure she was watching him die. It wasn't fair, he was her only friend.

"Miguel!" she screamed again, "I need a medic!"

Miguel was nowhere to be seen, it was likely the fighting was drowning out her shouts. As each moment passed it looked like Bronson was aging by decades right in front of her. They heard the stamping of running feet as several protesters caught up to them. Bronson flopped his head to the left and pointed at the door.

"The president went that way," he said weakly.

The protesters began to struggle with the door.

"I'll go find Miguel, his doctor can't be far behind-"

"Don't bother," he said, "look."

He uncovered the wound, it was a wonder he didn't die immediately. Sombra saw there was no coming back from that.

"No, Bronson," she said holding him, "I can't, you're the only person who ever helped me, you gave me a home. No one's ever cared about me."

Bronson turned his neck with difficulty to look at her as the hand covering his wound slumped to the floor. Sombra desperately tried to hold her hands over it for him but she felt she was just hurting him.

"Look at me, Sombra," he said faintly, "its OK."

It was clear he was expending effort to reassure her.

"No, Bronson. Not you. I'm sorry I ever left. I'm sorry, I should have been here," she whimpered.

"Its OK, Sombra. Look at where we are. Look at all these people. Its a revolution," he said as more protesters ran past. He watched their feet as they rushed by and smiled weakly. "This is my dream, Sombra."

"Fuck!" she shouted. He already sounded so far away, she wouldn't accept it. She turned to the protesters struggling with the door. "What the fuck are you doing? He's dying! I need a medic!"

One of them broke off and ran for help as Sombra wiped Bronson's blood from her hands on her shirt. All she could do was comfort him and pray the medic would come soon. As she held his head in her arms and cried she could feel herself having to use more and more effort to keep his head up. Finally, she felt the last of his strength leave.

Her eyes became steely. She didn't think it was possible she could hate the world any more but it somehow just happened. Slowly, she let go and his head predictably slumped forward. He was dead. The protesters struggling with the door had stopped. They'd been watching her. Without knowing a thing about her, the collective feeling that Sombra was not someone who should experience the death of a close friend sank in amongst them.

Sombra's breathing became slow as felt the top of her head ignite. Her brain flooded with anger and she felt her ears pound with blood. She wiped her hot tears and stood slowly as she stared into Bronson's eyes. They were blank but his face was twisted into a grimace. He died in pain.

She felt the protester's eyes on her and turned to them.

"What the _fuck_ are you looking at?!" Sombra raged.

The protesters looked back at her uselessly as she trembled. Scattered shouts came from down the hall that the medic was on his way. Sombra shook her head in frustration as she began to feel herself losing control. She felt herself storm towards the door. Someone was standing directly in front blocking her path.

"Make room," she said with a low threatening mutter, shoving him aside with neurotic anger.

He stumbled from the force of her push and looked up at her as she activated her haptic keyboard then made a few strokes. The door's electronic lock opened with a clunk.

She entered.

When the protesters tried to follow she slammed it shut and relocked it. Sombra watched through the door's small grated window as they yelled and pounded on the other side in silent outrage.

No, Portero was hers.

 

* * *

 

The crisis room was spacious and well furnished, just as presidential as the upstairs chambers.

“I hate this stupid room,” sighed Portero, “its a coward's hiding place.”

The chaos was distant, the soundproof room was silent except for the hum of emergency generators. He stepped towards an elegant liquor cabinet and eyed some vintage Mexican brandy. Above the FLN and armed protesters were fighting room by room with the presidential guard. They where fully committed fighting the presidential guard. They'd totally lost him and there was no chance they'd find him here.

“Good thing I had this place well stocked though, eh?”

The guards eyed each other nervously. Their hearts were still pumping from the chase.

“You know, I've learned a valuable lesson about leadership today,” he said pouring himself a glass, “if I'm right about who is behind this coup.” He held the tumbler level to his eye to inspect it then took a swig. “Don't piss off Talon.”

He laughed heartily for a long minute.

“Although, they didn't know I would be so hard to catch. I survived Los Muertos last year, I'll survive Talon this year.”

“Don't be so sure, Mr. president,” said one of the bodyguards drawing his gun.

He fired, the bullet nicked his hand, shattered the tumbler and took off a piece of his ear. Portero collapsed to the ground in pain. The second guard immediately drew his gun and killed him.

Portero unleashed a massive train of unholy swears as he gripped his ear in pain. The guard rushed to his side to see if he was injured.

“Don't dote on me, the bastard missed!" roared Portero as he ripped his arm away in frustration and fixed his suit, "It never ends! Who can I trust? Can I even trust you?”

The guard backed off when he seemed fine. Portero stood and winced in pain as he realized he had glass splinters in his hands and face. He went to the bathroom and ran hot water to tend to his minor wounds.

“What an idiot, he saved my life and brought me all the way here just to miss. I almost feel sorry for him,” he shouted at the mirror, “heads will roll in intelligence, you think I'm unpopular now?” He continued to clean his wounds. “Am I talking to myself?”

Suddenly, Portero watched with horror as a brown hand with long violet fingernails then a forearm then a bicep materialized around his neck followed by a neon skulled face next to his in the mirror.

“Gotcha,” it said.

He reflexively went for the gun he'd holstered in his suit jacket but he felt something slam into his neck. He felt his skin break at the sound of a pressurized release followed by a burning sensation in his spine that indicated his brain-stem was losing connectivity with his spinal column. He slumped back foaming at the mouth. The pain was raw and excruciating but slowly subsided. He was paralyzed. He felt himself be carried with great effort to a chair.

“You're a heavy fucker,” muttered Sombra as she slumped him into his executive seat.

Portero blinked and came to.

“What did you do to me?” he asked.

“That's a very good question, Mr. President,” she replied enthusiastically taking a seat on the desk in front of him, “but first, I just want to say how excited I am to finally meet you, I mean, I've seen you on TV but... well, it really is a privilege”

Portero looked at his assassin. It was a girl. No, a woman but she looked like a teenage punk with her pink mohawk and hoop earrings. He recognized the Los Muertos markings immediately. She was a gangster. Maybe she could be negotiated with.

“What? What is this? You're with Los Muertos? Talon?”

Sombra kicked her legs girlishly as she thought of what to say.

“Man, this building, wow! I thought we were a poor country that's why you raised gas prices right? But no expense is spared for you. You know, peasant girl like me, I've never been in a building like this before?” she mused with fake wonderment. Suddenly, Sombra's voice turned poisonous and bitter. “You see, I was an orphan and I grew up poor, very very poor...”

Portero was silent.

“You're insane,” he said after a long while.

Sombra's eyes shifted as she thought about this for a moment. She nodded. Yes, she was insane. So what?

“So, how do I want to do this?” she contemplated aloud. “OK, tell you what, I will answer _some_ of your questions...” Sombra inspected Portero's face. He was silent. “Interesting thing about that little device in your neck, you're paralyzed but you can talk and you can still feel pain. Its Talon tech, really quite ingenious. Lets me play kind of a villain. I suppose that sort of answers your other question...”

“You're with Talon”

“I _work_ for Talon. But I'm not here for them today”

“What do you want then? Money? Power?”

Her eyes widened in amusement before she laughed cruelly.

“Oh no, I wouldn't know what to do with power. And I'm hopelessly low class, everything I like is cheap: guns, gasoline, maybe some circuits and wiring, even drugs are relatively cheap. I have no need for money," she said with false modesty, "No, I'm going to kill you.”

“So, do it then. I have no fear. I've lived a long happy life, full of conquests”

“So macho of you Mr. President,” she said inspecting her nails, “and don't think I don't know about your conquests. But, unlucky you...” Sombra looked up and grinned. “You're right, I am insane. I am one crazy... sadistic... psycho-bitch,” she said tapping him on the nose with each word. "You killed my friend today, Mr. President." She nodded over to one of the dead bodyguards, “and you're _really_ going to wish that he killed you with that shot”


	14. Chapter 14

The sky was red with the setting sun as the last quarter slowly disappeared. Miguel's forces scoured the bombed out building while the protesters took to looting and trashing the building.

"This is your heritage, are you serious? You should be ashamed!" shouted an old maid hitting a looter on the back repeatedly as he desecrated some priceless fixture of the president's quarters.

Miguel stepped into the president's office. One of Portero's advisers lay on the floor struggling under a fallen beam. He motioned to several soldiers to help move it aside.

"Where is Portero? We're not here to kill him, we want to treat him fairly," said Miguel.

"He's gone, you're too late," replied the adviser coughing.

"We can put the beam back on..."

"No, no!" said the adviser desperately holding his hand up, "he's still in the building in a secure bunker"

"Where?"

"I don't know, lower level. It's top secret, only his closest bodyguards know."

Miguel's soldiers looked at him to gauge whether or not he thought this response was satisfactory.

"Thank you, _compañero_. We'll remember this when the time comes," said Miguel kneeling down next to him.

"When what comes?" asked the adviser.

"The purges," he said lighting a cigarette, "I'm kidding, of course. Cigarette?"

The injured man politely refused.

Miguel gestured to his men.

"Clear this room, they're hostages. Tell the men to take whatever supplies they need from this building and ask anyone, guards, staff, aides, cooks, the fucking help if they know about any secret rooms. Set up positions around the entrances don't let anyone out," he ordered, "Oh yes, and find Sombra."

"Sir, we can't secure this building with so few men," replied the soldier.

"I know, but we can't let Portero get away by waiting us out," Miguel said darky as he inhaled the smoke from his cigarette.

He continued to smoke as nervous thoughts began to course through his mind. This action would be over if they couldn't find Portero. There was no way they could fight off the whole military even with the entire city protesting. An idea popped into his head. He needed to send a message, it might buy them time.

"Contact a news station, flag down one of their helicopters if you have to," he ordered. "We need to tell the people what's going on..."

 

* * *

 

Shadows from the dim light of the utility elevator marched across Sombra's face as she was carried to the upper levels. A smile slowly grew across her face. She reached the top and stumbled down the long hallway as if she were drunk, retracing her steps via the trail of bodies she'd left leading to the elevator. A cool satisfaction hit her body. Things felt a little more right.

Two FLN soldiers stood outside the impossible vault door and watched it open with surprise.

"He's in there," said Sombra knocking her shoulder against one of the troops as he stepped in.

She walked up the stairs into the looting. This was quite the party, more than her type of scene. She mused at the destruction as she made her way to the president's office. Miguel sat at the imposing desk.

"Right where you belong," she chuckled. "Way to look presidential out there, by the way. I thought you wanted this job"

"It will be short lived if we can't find Portero..."

Something was coming in on his com. His men were reporting in from the bunker.

"Sir, we found him, he's been... its awful. He's dead sir."

"Understood," replied Miguel.

Sombra watched him hold his head in dread for a long while as she felt her sense of satisfaction fizzle. She gathered that Miguel was about to have a problem with her.

"You killed him?" he finally shouted. "You couldn't have waited? They'll never stop now until we're all dead! You've destroyed us. The FLN will be annihilated and it will be my fault. They were looking for any excuse, anything to come into our villages and rape and murder my people. You just handed them the perfect reason. How will we negotiate?"

Sombra grunted. "Are you fucking thick? Look at where you're sitting," she replied coolly.

"And what good does this do me?" he shouted back, "God, you're insane. You've turned us into terrorists. I thought we were going to ransom him or demand his resignation or use him to negotiate a ceasefire. Something rational! We need to get out of here..."

He stood up from the desk and began pacing frantically in thought. Sombra watched him like a cat wearing a moody expression. The room was void of conversation as the sounds of distant heavy machine gun fire and explosions littered the background.

A helicopter passed overhead. Inside, the pilot watched as several soldiers cleared a space in front of the main drive of the residence. He got on the headset to call his colleague to the front. She stumbled into the cockpit and put on the copilot's headset. “What the hell are they doing down there?” she asked.

They watched an FLN soldier silently wave his arms back and forth at them in the cleared space.

“It looks like they are trying to get us to land,” he replied.

“Land,” she ordered.

“That's strictly against the government's orders...”

“Forget that, I have a career,” she said. “Please, I won't forget this,” she said gripping his shoulder.

The pilot rolled his eyes and gave a "here we go" look then maneuvered the helicopter into position.

Miguel's soldiers rushed into the president's bombed out office.

"Sir, we've flagged down a news helicopter. They're landing now."

"Understood, _compañero._ "

Miguel walked up to Sombra and whispered in her ear. "We hide the body and pretend he's still alive. If we survive this, we'll say he committed suicide. We don't want to lose our bargaining chip."

She nodded and Miguel walked briskly out of the room.

"This is Carmen Alatorre with Canal 5 news. We've been flagged down by the armed guerrillas occupying Los Pinos. They've cleared a landing zone and we're making our way over to them now... As you can see protesters have engulfed the president's residence and offices... the damage is catastrophic... reports of a major fight between coup forces and the presidential guard and a large explosion... no word on the location of the president now..." The camera shook unsteadily as the crew exited the helicopter. Miguel approached the news team flanked by two soldiers. The cameraman steadied his camera on him.

"Clear the protesters out of here!" he shouted waving his arm.

The reporter approached him.

"Sir, state your name."

When Miguel became aware of the camera he stood with his hands behind his back and his chin high. After each question, he lowered his head slightly to speak into the microphone. His tone was curt and authoritative. "I am Lt. Miguel Loya of the FLN"

"Are you responsible for the attack?"

"Let me be clear, this is an act of self-defense by the people of Mexico."

"Is President Portero safe?"

"Yes, he is safe and in our custody."

"Are you responsible for the protests?"

"No, we have nothing to do with organizing the protests, this is a spontaneous uprising of the people. However, the FLN are the _de facto_ leaders of the movement to demand Portero's resignation."

"What about the rumors that this is a coup?"

"We have been fighting the reactionary coup forces trying to overthrow Portero, we are in no way staging a coup."

"Do you have anything you'd like to say?"

"Yes, this action is in response to the illegal and unconstitutional use of violence against peaceful protesters, we have declared President Portero an enemy of the people of Mexico. We have seized Los Pinos and captured Portero to end his unlawful campaign of terror. Under the authority of the FLN and the people of Mexico, we demand all security forces to stand down and return to their normal duties. If you do not stand down we will execute the president. That is all."

Miguel turned militaristically away from the camera and gestured for his detail to follow as he marched back towards the president's residence. The protesters closed in where Miguel had stood.

"You heard it here first..."

 

* * *

 

Sombra sat moodily deep and low in the president's chair as Miguel returned.

"You're back..." she said ominously, "I saw your interview. You look so stiff when you're trying to seem important"

"Well, we'll see where this lie takes us soon enough..."

There was a boom in the background followed by the sound of approaching helicopters. Miguel ran to the window to see a man in Los Muertos tattoos twisting and falling to the ground from bullet fire. Government troops were moving into the front drive of the residence. The late Francisco's tank, now sporting makeshift FLN insignia, reversed towards the building and fired. Heavy machinegun fire erupted from the windows causing the advancing government troops to scatter and take cover.

“We'll be overrun...” said Miguel grimly stepping back from the window. "This is a shit action, a shit action... we can't hold this building," he fretted.

_KABOOM!_

The captured tank was destroyed by an energy weapon with immense firepower. A soldier rushed in.

“Sir, they're engaging.”

“I know! Its obvious!” Miguel shouted back.

Suddenly, the room shook.

Sombra and Miguel exchanged glances. There was the sound of cracking trees and the room shook again. Pieces of rubble and dust fell on the President's desk from the ceiling. The room shook yet again but this time after the discernible sound of hydraulics and the whirring of industrial equipment.

“What the hell is that?”

Another blast of energy came from the inside the tree line and decimated a guerrilla position causing the protesters in the drive to scatter to cover. Finally, the source of the noise came into view as a massive walking machine just slightly taller than the trees surrounding Los Pinos emerged from the woods.

_KABOOM!_

The main cannon hanging from its underbelly pulsed and fired. Even Miguel's disciplined soldiers had no choice but to flee. The remaining Los Muertos and armed protesters in the drive dropped their weapons as they were surrounded by government troops.

“Miguel Loya, this is district battalion commander Mario Arturo Allende... we have you surrounded, surrender your weapons and return President Portero immediately...”

“They didn't even respect my rank... I don't think they want to negotiate, Sombra.”

“You country boys, you're not urban guerrillas,” replied Sombra sitting up in the chair, “I've handled dozens of hostage situations. This _is_ how they negotiate. Sit tight and watch them change their attitude.”

“Really, Sombra, is it exactly like this?” shouted Miguel, “we have nothing to bargain with!”

“Hey, asshole, calm down. We have key members of the president's cabinet and dozens of aides and staff, we're in a good position,” she replied leaning back and lighting a cigarette.

Sombra flicked her lighter closed as she sat up and manifested a holographic image showing news reports from across the country. The smoke from her cigarette distorted the images as they played in her hand.

"We're not the only people acting. Los Muertos and other gangs have been occupying banks, police and radio stations, even toll booths. The cartels are hitting hard too.” She smiled. “And its not just here, Miguel. There are reports of FLN and EZLN troops opening up fronts all over the country.”

"You're just going to calmly explain why we are winning with that massive _thing_ on the front lawn? We can't repel firepower of that magnitude. They're going to kill us. We're trapped.”

“Well, they haven't yet, so who's right, buddy? You or me?”

Miguel facepalmed. “OK, what are the FLN saying?"

"They've officially said nothing but there are thousands of people saying you are a hero. They want to know who you are, Miguel."

Miguel paced.

"So the action is working? I don't believe it."

Sombra sat in silence as the last of the sun finally set. A bright spotlight hit the room through the window and scanned across. Miguel ducked as Sombra rested her feet on the desk. She continued to watch the news.

"Will you turn that lightshow off? You'll attract their attention!"

Suddenly a voice boomed into the room, “Lt. Miguel Loya, I am General Inspector Gerardo Vega with the Federal Ministerial Police, we don't want any more violence today, we are willing to work with you but we need to ensure the safety of the president and the hostages...”

“So now they show respect!” said Miguel getting up as the spotlight passed. “Sombra, what are we doing? We need a plan!”

"No..." said Sombra as if she witnessed something disturbing, "no no no! That idiot!"

Sombra groaned in rage and annoyance.

"What? What is it now?" asked Miguel.

A news report played in Sombra's hand. Lucio and Hana were in Zócalo square. People in Dia de Los Muertos face paint wearing boas and fanciful costumes were dancing behind him to his music. His concert Los Muertos tattoos had been smudged off his face. He was being interviewed in English.

"Lucio, what are you doing?!" shouted Sombra.

"—I wanted to bring back the holiday, it's supposed to be a happy time. There's no reason a protest can't be a fun peaceful event. There are other ways to show your discontent then violence..."

"Are you leading the protests?"

"No, I'm participating. It's not my place to lead..."

"Damn right, its not your place to lead," said Sombra with a simmering anger.

The feed disappeared. She stood and exhaled as she rubbed her pink mohawk back. Her eyes shifted as she felt on the verge of something. After a brief moment of deliberation, she raised her wrist to her chin and spoke "now" then slumped back in the chair with a frown.

Miguel cringed.

"What did you just do?" he asked.

“You'll see...”

After a few moments she wordlessly summoned the news station in her hand. A massive explosion was rising in the background. The camera shook and the audio clipped out as the masses screamed and ran for their lives. Amidst the camera's wild movements, it captured glimpses of bloody and dismembered protesters. Suddenly, the feed cut out. Sombra watched the blackness until it switched to two news anchors staring with their mouths agape each wearing horrified expressions.

"There seems to have been a terrorist attack..." said one of the anchors then was silent.

The grim silence of dead air prevailed until someone off camera hissed to say something.

"We'll be covering these events as they unfold—," the other anchor said hesitantly, finally filling the horrific emptiness.

Sombra cut the feed and chuckled to herself as she leaned back in the chair. Miguel stared at her with a look of discernible dread. At that moment, two of Miguel's men came in with Portero's mutilated body and dumped it into an open chair. A spotlight passed over the room. Everyone but Sombra ducked.

“Cover that damn body!” ordered Miguel.

"Ugh, its sublime isn't it?" said Sombra lighting another cigarette.

“Lt. Loya, we need you to respond, are the hostages OK?” shouted the negotiator.

"Sombra..." Miguel started to say but was speechless. "What have you done?" He regarded Sombra's grotesque handiwork. His teeth were chipped and his fingernails had been removed. A large splotch of blood stained the crotch of his pants. "How are we supposed to convince people he's still alive? We are running out of ammunition, my men are dying, the protesters have stripped this building bare of food and supplies. How are we going to survive this?"

Sombra's cigarette butt glowed as she took a long drag. Finally, she spoke as she exhaled her cigarette smoke.

"I dunno, you figure it out. They want you."

She'd done everything she'd planned. A deranged happiness had been creeping up on her since she'd finished with Portero. She'd felt so low the last two days. All this had brought her right back. Sombra began to chuckle sinisterly.

"Sombra?"

"I got him, I really got him. He was begging for me to kill him. I was all the way in his head. I did it for hours..."

"Sombra, hold it together!"

Miguel needed Bronson, he was the only person who could control or talk some sense into her.

Another of Miguel's men ran to the door. “Sir, it looks like they're preparing to assault the building.” Miguel was going to lose it. “Sir?”

“Understood, _compañero,_ ” he replied after a long delay.

The soldier was noticeably unsettled by Miguel's slow response. He looked off to the left as if contemplating, his eyes caught Portero's tortured body.

“Return to your post, soldier,” said Miguel narrowing his eyes at him.

The soldier shifted nervously but complied.

Sombra nonchalantly tossed her cigarette and yawned. An amused look grew on her face.

"Hey, wanna fuck in the president's bed? I've never done it during a job, I might let you go all the way..."

"Sombra! We're in the middle of a hostage crisis!"

She scoffed, completely offended that he didn't seem to want her. Miguel glared at her. What the hell was he going to do with her?

"Don't look at me like that," said Sombra, "fuck this place, I'm going for a walk."

She stepped towards the exit bumping Miguel out of the way as she passed. He stood in disbelief before kicking the rubble and cursing. Sombra was going to get them all killed. It was like she had no sense of the consequences of anything she did. He paced and thought about Sombra for a while. Slowly, it began to dawn on Miguel that he was under the influence of a mad woman and that she truly was just a terrorist.

Suddenly, Miguel's instincts as soldier kicked in. He realized he wasn't alone. He turned to see a masked figure sitting in the president's chair. How had he gotten in without noticing? Maybe his nerves were finally shot from the stress of the situation.

"Hi," it said in a deep menacing voice.

A spotlight passed through the room and Miguel ducked.

“Relax,” it said.

“And why should I relax, _amigo_?” said Miguel as he stood. The figure was silent. “I apologize if I am curt _._ As you can see, I am under a lot of stress. So if you don't mind, please tell me who or what the hell you are, _señor._ "

"Reaper," it replied.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure, _señor_ Reaper?"

"Not what, who," Reaper responded wryly.

Miguel heard shouts over his com. Gunfire broke out somewhere in the building. They were inside. Desperate pleas for orders were coming in over his ear piece. He had to get to the window and get the attention of the forces outside or he and his men were doomed. Miguel tried to push by Reaper but he pushed him back with inhuman strength. It was Sombra's fault, all this was her fault...

“Please, _señor,_ if you are here to kill me, do it. I don't have much time to save my men.”

"No, we're going to have a little chat."

Reaper approached Portero's body and held his jaw in his metal gauntlet. He rotated Portero's face as he inspected it. When he was satisfied, he pressed a com piece hidden in his hood. “She did the job... there's one thing left.”

 _One thing left? What the hell is going on?_ thought Miguel. The desperate shouts intensified over his com. Miguel panicked, he needed to get to his men. He bolted for the door but Reaper collapsed into a gaseous cloud and flowed in front of him blocking his path. Miguel fell back in surprise as Reaper drew a gun and held it to his head.

“You're with Sombra...” said Miguel darkly.

Reaper grunted in amusement.

"That's right," he said reaching down and deliberately pulling the com piece out of Miguel's ear. He crushed it in his hand and the desperate shouts were silenced. "I'm here to see if you're qualified for your new job.” Miguel's eyes widened. “You know what I'm talking about... Unless, she didn't tell you, the job has conditions."

Reaper read Miguel's expression of surprise and chuckled.

"Typical, I'm afraid long term planning and keeping people in the loop are not Sombra's strong suits. Though she likes to think 'big picture.'"

Miguel snapped. This enigmatic fuck was just like Sombra with his coercion and blackmail. The stress and fear melted into fury.

"You do not scare me,” said Miguel standing, “you think I've lost my wits? You think you can intimidate _me_? Let me tell you, _señor_ Reaper, I'm ready to die. I don't know what she promised Talon but if I am president I will not be Talon's puppet. Not one ounce of my country's resources or wealth will go to your organization. I will not traffic drugs or weapons or whatever and Talon will not open bases in my country. I'm not in the business of trading one master for another."

Reaper cocked his head and grunted.

"You're speaking like you're already in control. Bad choice, lieutenant," he said, “its unwise to refuse a deal if you haven't heard it yet...

Miguel frowned.

“You're men are dying lieutenant...”

"OK, the deal!" shouted Miguel impatiently.

"Mexico fits into Talon's long term plans for the region. I think you will find them most amenable," replied Reaper, "we want the United States."

"You're crazy, you're more crazy then Sombra," he said shaking his head. "You want my country to go to war with a superpower? I will not start a needless war we can't win. Talon is in over its head.”

"I'm disappointed," said Reaper turning his back to Miguel.

Miguel sensed a dark intention in Reaper and flinched.

"Persuade me!" he snapped.

Reaper turned around with inhuman speed.

"Your country WILL be prepared to assist Talon in armed conflict with the United States, you WILL host Talon bases and you WILL cooperate with Talon to expose and capture former Overwatch agents."

Miguel grunted. “Do you think I'm stupid, Reaper? Do you think you can use the lives of my men to blackmail me into sacrificing my countrymen to Talon? I told you, I'm made of stronger stuff.”

"We are in the final stages of a secret global war, lieutenant. Overwatch has been destroyed. They are weak and unprepared," said Reaper. "What about you? Do you really think you're in a position to bargain right now? Sombra offered you but it could just as easily be someone else."

"What do you mean?"

"We're in control here."

"You're behind the coup," Miguel said darkly, “those are your men out there right now.”

"Yes and no, lieutenant. If those were my men you'd already be dead. But I assure you, we'll be in power regardless. I'm giving you the opportunity to steer the direction of your country."

Miguel thought to himself. He had no choice.

"I'll do it. Spare my men."

Reaper grunted and pressed his com piece. “Call it in.”

Immediately, there was the sound of pulse munitions and advanced weapons fire. The shouting subsided. Reaper stepped up to Miguel, overshadowing him.

"Your men are safe, whats left of them. I'm glad we could come to this agreement, lieutenant. The rest, I'm afraid, is up to you."

Miguel extended his hand to shake. "I like to make my agreements formal. Between men," he said.

Reaper stared at the hand for a long moment before extending his massive clawed gauntlet. He grasped his hand and shook. Miguel felt an unnatural warmth in the gauntlet gripping his hand.

"Do not fail us and do not betray us, lieutenant... Unless you want to end up like him," he said gesturing to Portero's body.

Reaper let go and disintegrated into a black cloud and poured towards the window. Miguel stared as the unreal cloud left his presence. He exhaled in relief.

Miguel went for the door when he heard a shuffle and the sound of unwinding rope. He was still not alone. He watched a blue woman in a suite of sleek black armor lower herself upside down from an exposed part of the ceiling.

"Nice entrance, maybe a little conspicuous," he said pithily.

"Trust me lieutenant, if I didn't want you to know I was here, I would be trying to kill you and you would already be dead," she replied in perfect European Spanish.

She acrobatically flipped herself right side up as Talon troops stormed into the room. The situation had again complicated.

"So, who are you and what are you doing here?" said Miguel eyeing the mysterious blue woman.

"I am Agent Widowmaker," she said sounding slightly bored, "reporting for duty..."

"Where are my men?"

She smirked. "Oh, they are quite well."

The woman gestured to a Talon stormtrooper near the door. He pulled in the two men Miguel had ordered to guard the door. They held their hands up.

"Sorry, sir. We never saw them coming."

"It's OK, _compañero,_ they are here to help..."

The FLN soldiers exchanged nervous glances. Widowmaker gave Miguel a predatory smile then pressed a button on her tactical helmet. Her targeting visor and gas mask snapped over her face.

Suddenly, a sonic boom sounded in the sky. Miguel felt the air in his lungs suction out as he and his soldiers stumbled forward. They witnessed a glowing orb descending in the window illuminating the combat area. Miguel watched the trees bend in the direction of the orb as debris rose from the ground.

_FWOOM!_

It exploded and he was knocked in the opposite direction. He was completely deaf. All he could hear was the sound of his ears ringing from the massive explosion. Miguel stumbled up in a daze, praying that his hearing would return. The Talon stormtroopers stood unfazed as they watched him scramble to help his comrades.

He shouted wordlessly to the Talon troopers for help.

He had to get to the rest of his men to make sure they were safe.

 

* * *

 

Lucio came to with the sound of his ears ringing from the massive explosion. Frightened people scampered around him in the chaos. As his hearing returned he heard frantic shouts amid the sounds of police and emergency vehicle sirens. He grasped for his audio gun but he couldn't find it. He saw Hana lying face down he ran to her and turned her on her back.

"Hana! Hana! Wake up, are you OK?" said Lucio in a panic as he held her, "please God, no. Hana, I love you, you can't..."

She groaned as her head flopped to the side.

"Owie," she said meekly as she came to.

"Hana, holy shit, I thought you were dead!"

"No, just in a lot of pain..." she muttered. Lucio helped her up and they embraced for a long while.

"Come on, we need to find my gun."

They searched in the chaos until they came across Alejandra lying sideways sprawled on the pavement. She was holding the audio gun.

"No, Alejandra, you're going to be OK," said Lucio kneeling over her.

He turned her over, pieces of shrapnel had cut large lines across her neck and shoulder. She was breathing sharp panicked breaths. He took the gun and activated its healing waves and she began to calm down although he wasn't sure if that would save her.

Cops and rescue workers stepped through the smoke and rubble. It looked like there was an unofficial truce between them and the protesters for now. The sound of another explosion emanated from the distance. A nervous cry emerged from the crowd and first responders as they ducked and covered their heads. Lucio vowed to get whoever was behind this and make them pay.

 

* * *

 

_Later..._

Miguel found Sombra in the large main room where they were keeping hostages harassing a helpless aide as the FLN soldiers guarding the corridors watched apprehensively. The hostages huddled together fearfully in the center, disoriented and shaken from the recent blast. The remaining hardcore protesters and Los Muertos, however, seemed to be enjoying the spectacle.

"They pay you well to help the rich fuck my country?" she said holding her gun to the woman's head.

The room watched as she kicked the woman down. She started praying. Sombra pulled the trigger and the gun clicked. The woman's eyes widened with terror. Sombra cackled as she repeatedly clicked the gun at her head as the woman thanked the Lord.

"You think God did that, you mindless bitch?" she sneered, grabbing a fistful of the poor woman's hair, "It was me, I control if you live or die!"

Miguel nodded a few times and sucked on his teeth. _Typical_ , he thought. He understood now, Sombra was a bully.

"Sombra!" he shouted, "Enough, leave these people alone. Your Talon friends are here."

"Widowmaker, what a surprise," she said through her teeth, "come to reign me in?"

"It would be a shame if something happened to you, _ma petite cherie_ ," replied Widowmaker coldly.

Sombra pouted.

"Just when I was starting to have fun..."

Sombra sauntered cockily towards them giving Miguel the up and down. He looked somewhat distressed and disheveled. He'd just had a _very_ bad time. She was about to open her mouth to say something pithy when Miguel grabbed her and held his gun to her head. She yelped in surprise and dropped her gun as he forced her down.

“How do you like it? You think its fun to fuck with people, huh? How much did you know? How long were you going to leave me out of the loop? Do you know how many of my men died for you, you conniving bitch?” he shouted furiously.

Widowmaker looked away and cleared her throat as the spectacle played out in front of her. She'd seen something similar a few times before between Reaper and Sombra.

“They were good men with families! They gave up everything to do the right thing for their country! How do you have the right? You've made us risk everything! This is _your_ God damned plan and you've done everything to undermine it with fucking unnecessary barbaric shit!” Sombra closed her eyes and hung her head as if she'd shut down. Miguel shook her. The room stared on at the bizarre performance. The Muertos didn't like that one of their own was being cowed but didn't interfere. “Answer me! Explain to my men why their friends are dead, you psychopath!” Miguel's face was red with fury. He lowered his gun. “Of course you say nothing.”

Sombra slumped to the floor continuing to hang her head. She grabbed her knees and buried her face in them. She was suddenly a scared orphan girl being reprimanded by a nun.

“Let me let you in on a few things,” said Miguel kneeling next to her, “I had a conversation with your friend Reaper.” Sombra opened her eyes. “Yep, I'm working for Talon now,” he said with a frown. “Just like you. It makes me want to fucking vomit but at least I'll know what the hell is going on and I won't have to rely on you.”

He tapped his gun against his knee a few times as he knelt.

“So, uhh, I don't know how to tell this to you but I think you are done. Your job was to kill Portero and I guess my job is to pick up the pieces. You're off the hook. You can go.”

Miguel gestured towards the door. Sombra just sat there for a long while before quickly shaking her head 'no' several times.

“What are you? A child?” asked Miguel incredulously. “No, just go. I've had enough of your help.”

Sombra shook her head again and gripped her knees harder.

Miguel blinked. He was flabbergasted by Sombra's apparent infantilization.

“No? OK, so then you follow orders.”

Widowmaker smiled as she realized this Miguel would be an excellent asset. He'd already discovered how the Talon chain of command worked.

He got up and turned to confide with his men. Widowmaker stepped over to Miguel and whispered in his ear as she deliberately looked at Sombra. What were they talking about? Miguel glanced over his shoulder at Sombra before turning back to Widowmaker. It was definitely about her. He nodded a few times in agreement and a shot of paranoia hit Sombra's nervous system. What was she sharing with him? Her weaknesses? Her mistakes? How to manipulate and control her? Sombra briefly made eye contact with Widowmaker but quickly averted her eyes. Finally, Widowmaker stepped away and drew her rifle as Miguel addressed the crowd.

"I apologize for the little scene, hostages _must_ be treated with respect,” he said. He cleared his throat. “Los Muertos, committed activists, and those of you who have been brave enough to take up arms against your government in the name of justice, a great victory has been won. All of you are heroes.”

The irregulars in the room cheered albeit apprehensively.

“We are grateful for your service to the revolution. However, your commitment and bravery are needed elsewhere. This is now a military matter for the FLN. Please return your weapons to us.”

The irregulars walked over to the FLN troops and handed over their weapons. They shook hands and exchanged “thank yous” patting each other on the back before leaving. The Muertos, however, eyed each other uneasily, gripping their rifles. This was unexpected.

The room cleared of militants with the exception of Los Muertos.

“Please, go, rest or celebrate in the streets. Do whatever you do to enjoy yourselves but you must return your weapons. You are no longer needed here,” said Miguel now a little more insistent.

The Talon stormtroopers took that as their cue, they stepped up to the Muertos gangsters and ripped the rifles out of their hands. The Muertos scowled as they handed over their weapons and stormed out.

“Whatever man, fucking fascists.”

Sombra felt her mind reel. It was already happening, she felt herself losing control of the situation. She stood and kicked a nearby hostage in the teeth before letting out a long scream of “Fuck!” and tearing out of the room.

Miguel ignored her.

“The rest of you, we are moving out to Chapultepec Castle, line up the hostages and get ready to march,” he shouted.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talon and Miguel's guerillas review the situation and plan their next moves at Chapultepec castle. Sombra acts like a delinquent as she reckons with the new arrangement of power among the conspirators. Miguel puts together a plan to clear the way for FLN reinforcements by attacking the infamous Campo Militar 1. The raid on the base, however, reveals unpleasant ghosts from Sombra's past.

“How much Talon support can we count on?” asked Miguel.

He stood at attention around a makeshift planning table with Widowmaker and his FLN guerrillas.

“Whatever you need, _cherie._ All of Sombra's resources have been transferred to you,” Widow replied coolly.

She gestured to a Talon trooper. He opened up his backpack and pulled out a hardened black laptop. After entering some information he placed the computer in front of Miguel. It displayed a map of Mexico. Red triangles indicating Talon assets littered the map. Miguel leaned in and tentatively touched the screen as he learned the UI. He opened a readout modal.

“Lets see, you have nuclear submarines in the Gulf of California with medium range ballistic missiles and a stealth aircraft carrier with 50 wings in the Gulf of Mexico. You have hundreds of sleeper agents in the police and military in every district...” said Miguel as he scrolled slowly through the Talon assets.

 _What was Sombra doing?_ thought Miguel. Talon practically had the country in the bag. She'd gone in and totally mucked up their plans.

“What are their orders?” he asked.

Widowmaker sighed. “They have no orders, they were ordered to activate once the coup was successful but the message will never come. _You_ have to give them new orders.”

“Forget the police, we don't trust them,” replied Miguel. “Order them to make the police and military function as poorly as possible. Give them orders to surrender immediately when they make contact with FLN troops.”

Widowmaker narrowed her eyes at Miguel. “Of course, _cherie._ But let me remind you, Talon will not tolerate any ideology. We want this country under control.”

Miguel frowned and turned to his men. “Do you see any ideology? I don't see any ideology. We're getting this done. I have a deal with Reaper. Talon will support the FLN.”

Widowmaker gave a condescending laugh.

“Please, your friends are so _complicated_. Let me just remind you that any contribution of Agent Sombra on the part of this mission is viewed with extreme skepticism. That includes you lieutenant.”

“Ah, you don't know,” Miguel beamed at Widowmaker, “I was just informed by my contacts in the FLN that I am going to be promoted to general.”

Widowmaker took a bow.

“Congratulations, _général._ Let me also remind you that Talon has no ranks. Our system is purely performance based.”

Miguel laughed and elbowed one of his soldiers standing next to him. “Hey, they are more progressive then us—”

“You perform or you die, _général,_ ” she interrupted.

Miguel squinted at Widowmaker incredulously. This woman was humorless.

“Anything else to remind me? No? Well, we had best turn to business,” he said and cleared his throat. Miguel had already prepared a mission to impress his new Talon comrades. He rattled off the details. “The FLN cannot move into the city. Government forces are blocking the entrances and the Air Force will surely bomb us if they detect a large movement of troops. Take your Talon forces and ground the aircraft at Campo Militar 1. There is a large contingent of prisoners held there. Arming the prisoners will make taking the base easier. I hate to say it but this is where Sombra's expertise might come in handy. She has a way with lowlifes. Infiltrate the base, destroy the fuel depot. The prisoners are an optional objective. Understand?”

“ _Oui, je comprend.”_

“My God, it feels so good to finally give orders and take the initiative,” said Miguel. He turned to his troops. “Men, take a rest, our new Talon allies will handle this...”

 

* * *

 

Sombra stood in front of the famous Battle of Chapultepec mural. Earlier she'd moved Bronson's body from Los Pinos to the Panteón Civil de Dolores and spent the day burying him. It had put her in an utterly foul mood. Now she was blowing off steam. She'd gotten into a utility closet and was now in the middle of spray painting some interesting details on the victorious U.S. Marines: swastikas now adorned their eyes and covered the American flag, she'd given them tiny penises and massive hairy balls, Los Muertos gang signs now covered the mural. Overall it seemed like an improvement to her.

Widowmaker stepped behind her silently. Sombra hadn't detected her.

“What are you doing, _ma souris?_ ”

Sombra spit, pretending not to be surprised. “Nothing.”

She continued her work moodily.

“You're like a teenage punk, it is really quite unbecoming for a woman your age.” Sombra stopped and looked over her shoulder at Widowmaker with dagger eyes. Widowmaker chuckled. “I'm sorry, am I bothering you?”

Widowmaker suddenly wrinkled her nose.

“What is that smell? It smells like a bathroom in here.”

Sombra turned back towards the mural and resumed her spray painting. She hid a smile.

“I peed on some art.”

“ _T'es dégoûtant,_ ” replied Widowmaker in disgust, “put yourself together, we have a mission...”

Sombra dropped the spray paint and stepped away from the mural towards Widowmaker, puffing herself up to look tough and getting right in her face.

“Please,” said Widowmaker with a condescending smile.

Sombra took a sudden step to try and make her flinch. Widowmaker simply cackled.

“Oh, I do love how you try,” she said raising her eyebrows at Sombra, “but we have business to attend to.”

“Anything to try and get your blood going, you lifeless bitch,” replied Sombra stepping away.

They passed the planning room as they exited. Sombra caught Miguel addressing the Talon troopers, speaking through an interpreter. She broke away from Widowmaker and stomped towards him. Widowmaker sighed impatiently.

“Hey, Miguel, I wanna talk to you,” she called out.

Miguel apologized to the interpreter and turned towards Sombra as she approached.

“What is it, Sombra?”

“Look at you, delegating. You're finally thinking like a leader, Miguel. I might have to hate you”

“No hard feelings, I hope, _compañera_ ”

“So, you're calling me that again...” she said narrowing her eyes, “you know, Los Muertos didn't elect you their leader so you could abandon them.”

Miguel scoffed.

“You mean your little rigged election at your squat house? You and I both know that was so they would follow orders...”

Sombra scoffed right back.

“And I thought I was cynical. You've needlessly shed manpower. Do you think you can hold this fortress of yours just because you have a couple dozen new Talon soldiers? Do you honestly think you can take this city without the support of the people?”

Miguel's eyes shifted.

“Its time to think strategically, Sombra. The protesters are doing their part, their momentum won't die down now. But they are a diversion. They aren't disciplined soldiers. They can block the military but they can't hold territory," he replied didactically, "We need soldiers, Sombra. Its time to connect this city to the front.”

Sombra stamped her foot and shoved herself in Miguel's face. Widowmaker's attention was piqued by this exchange.

“You forgot our talk. You're cutting me out because you think I'm a threat. You think I'm crazy,” Sombra said wagging her finger, “I know what you're doing, you want to put yourself right back in the FLN's chain of command. You want to turn the city into another front. You think you can 'win the war' with Talon's support. Well, you and I both know how the FLN works. They'll get here and slow things down while they deliberate with their stupid councils. I bet they'll do everything they can to take away your power once they get here.” 

Miguel was silent. The Talon interpreter folded his arms as he waited for him. Miguel's eyes panned across the anonymous masked faces of the Talon troopers. His new praetorian guard.

“Yeah, then we'll see how long you have Talon's support when they bog things down with their petty notions of 'direct democracy.' They're afraid of people who take control and show initiative.”

Miguel cursed silently. She was right. Suddenly, Sombra pulled Miguel close and whispered in his ear as she looked Widowmaker in the eye.

“You fucked up Miguel, you should be declaring your government right now in front of a massive crowd. You should be declaring victory and forcing the FLN to accept you as their leader by winning the support of the people.” She pulled away and pat him on the back. “But no, you want to play soldier. Have fun lieutenant.”

Sombra stomped off towards the exit but turned before she left. “I have a surprise for you this evening, lieutenant,” she said forebodingly.

Widowmaker gave Miguel a cold-blooded look before gesturing to the Talon stormtroopers to follow. It sent a chill down his spine.

 _It never ends,_ he thought.

“We haven't won yet, Sombra,” he shouted after her, “you need me to keep this under control”

But she was gone.

 

* * *

 

The black APC rolled through the battered city towards Campo Militar 1. The police had retreated to strong holds around their stations and locked the area down with sharpshooters. The rest of the city was under the control of the protesters. Banks and shops were raided, renters got revenge on their landlords, fires burned uncontrollably since fire crews were ordered not to leave police strongholds. Armed protesters patrolled waving Mexican flags with a variety of left-wing symbols spray painted over the seal. They witnessed bizarre scenes through the tiny window slits of the armored vehicle: a crowd surrounded a church while a pastor performed a syncretic service on the steps, protesters behind him carried out everything of value, several old women in Los Muertos paint danced naked in the streets wearing flower crowns—they were the cult of souls, musicians and artists performed in front of small crowds as folks continued the Dia De Los Muertos celebrations uninterrupted. The whole city was suspended in a surreal fantasy.

Campo Militar 1 was a military installation infamous for the torture and abuse of the prisoners held in its detention facility. Activists, dissidents, journalists, and political prisoners of all ages were held there, often illegally, along with the usual gamut of criminals. Prisoners were subject to all manner of horrific abuses as the base staff were given limitless authority and little oversight for dealing with them. The men stationed there were either notorious for their cruelty and indifference to human life or their ability to keep horrible secrets.

Sombra's stomach sunk as they approached. She closed her eyes. Unpleasant memories twisted in her head: solitary confinement after going on hunger strike, the strike had made her much weaker, she no longer looked like herself, would they still come for her? Nothing to do but wait in total darkness and see. If they came, how long could she resist before they finally overpowered her?

Her eyes sprung open.

She needed to distract herself.

"Hey, Widow," Sombra called over in a fake whisper, "psst."

Widowmaker sighed and turned her head away.

"Naw, don't be like that. Come on," said Sombra, "I got something to show you."

"What on Earth is so important?"

Sombra got up and sat next to her.

"I wanted to show you this," she said raising her unshaven armpit in front of Widowmaker's face. Widowmaker recoiled.

"You're appalling..."

"What do you think, eh? It's not bad," said Sombra peering under armpit, "oh man, that is powerful"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" replied Widowmaker in genuine disbelief.

"Come on, smell me, it's interesting." Sombra pushed her armpit at Widowmaker as they hit a bump causing her execute an expert conga line lean back. Sombra cackled and started pulling on her armpit hair. "Man, it's been a while, I can't wait to have a shower."

"Just like when we found you, do you just degenerate into this when you live with those punks?"

"Aw, what's wrong with me, Widowmaker? Are you saying I have problems?" she said lowering her arm. "Look at me, I'm beautiful, I'm healthy, I fuck like a God," she boasted.

" _Calm toi._ "

"I'm just jealous you're not gay for me, _chica_ ," she said, "I know things about you..."

Sombra kissed at her and laughed. Widowmaker gave an exasperated sigh and stood up to get away from her.

"Just do the job," she muttered darkly.

"We're here," called the APC driver.

" _Finalment._ "

The Talon troops piled out of the APC not far from the main entrance of Campo Militar One. Sombra stood and approached the weapon rack in the APC grabbing a silencer and jamming it on her machine pistol before exiting.

"Sombra, get into position, I'll cover you."

She nodded at Widowmaker and activated her thermoptic camouflage. Widowmaker fired her grappling hook and zipped to a position on a nearby rooftop as the Talon stormtroopers assumed a tactical posture and advanced up the street.

Widowmaker peered down her scope at the checkpoint outside the main entrance. The road outside the checkpoint was thick with the bodies of dead protesters in the process of being unceremoniously hauled into the camp by soldiers in HAZMAT gear. A machine gunner in a nearby emplacement rested on his gun overseeing the work while several soldiers stood near an armored car taking a smoke.

Widowmaker pressed on her com piece. "I see 12 soldiers, one machine gun emplacement and an armored car, they don't expect us."

"Got you," replied Sombra. She surveyed the field of bodies. "Fucking butchers," she muttered as she was forced to invisibly traipse over the dead.

A Talon trooper called in, his voice anonymized by his helmet's com system, "We're in position."

"Wait for her signal," replied Widowmaker.

Sombra had made her way just in front of the machine gun nest. She vaulted over the sandbag emplacement next to the gunner and uncloaked.

"Heya," she taunted as she materialized.

Sombra timed it perfectly so she could catch the look of surprise in his eyes. With a smile she unloaded several muffled shots into his head. Widowmaker caught the sound of the suppressed fire with her hyper-acute hearing. She had a shot lined up on the soldier in the checkpoint guardhouse.

_FWIP!_

The bullet entered through the narrow window and he was taken out with a perfect shot to his right eye. His body slumped to the floor.

"That's it, move in," she ordered.

The government soldiers sensed something was wrong when they heard the sound of breaking glass. They drew their weapons. Suddenly, they were felled all at once as the Talon troopers sprung from cover and unloaded a fusillade of silenced shots.

They moved up to the checkpoint.

Widowmaker swung from the building and stuck the landing in the empty street then sprinted to meet the soldiers. Sombra was already in the guardhouse trying to gain entrance to their security system.

"How long until they respond?" Widow asked as she stepped in.

"Not sure, someone will have caught us on camera by now," Sombra replied.

Suddenly, they heard a voice over the dead soldier's com piece, "Come in..."

"Or, if they don't see us already, they'll sound the alarm if they don't report," said Sombra stopping and taking the com off the soldier's head.

"Hello?" she said donning the com piece.

"What? A woman? There are no women assigned to that post. What's you're name and rank?" came an officious voice over the com.

"Umm," she spoke as she rolled the body next to her over. The name tag read Octavio Paz. "Octavia Paz?"

Widowmaker rolled her eyes. "I thought that computer in your spine made you quick..."

Sombra ripped the headphones off in frustration and unloaded her machine pistol at them.

"It was a stupid conversation anyway."

The base klaxons began wailing in alarm. Widowmaker and Sombra exchanged glances as the sounds of shouting soldiers came from the direction of the main complex. The base was waking up to the threat.

"So much for going in quiet..." muttered Sombra pulling the silencer off her gun.

The base commander stormed into the command room. He was a severely ugly man who wore an eye patch covering a mysterious unhealable wound. He was not only feared and hated by the prisoners he oversaw but by his own staff. Women found it especially difficult to gain respect and recognition under his command.

"What's going on?" he shouted adjusting his hat.

"Sir, we're under attack!" an officer sitting at a monitor turned and shouted back, "south entrance!"

"Who is it this time, soldier? More protesters?" asked the commander leaning over the officer's chair to regard the footage.

"No, sir, this is different. Looks like Talon"

"What's the status of those U.S. paratroopers we were promised?"

"They are still engaging Talon fighters, sir."

The commander squeezed his prosthetic hand in cool anger.

"How many is it?" he asked.

"Unknown, less than 30."

Something caught the commander's eye on the screen as the Talon troops rallied past. Sombra stepped into view behind them. He watched Sombra tap on her haptic keyboard before noticing the camera out of the corner of her eye. The commander felt under his eye patch as he watched her. She looked up at the security camera apprehensively and fired. The camera feed turned to static.

"That woman... I know her, even with the face paint and hair, she's unmistakable."

"Who is it?"

"She has no name," he said then humphed to himself, "deploy the entire garrison, don't let them anywhere near the aircraft. The one advantage we still have is air power."

Sombra walked through the front gate and shuddered. The sound of the klaxons faded as she stared into the mouth of the base. She had bad memories of this place.

"They're not real," she muttered to herself.

The Talon APC pulled up from behind and crashed through the gate. Widowmaker stepped to Sombra's side.

"Focus," she commanded.

Sombra rolled out her shoulders and glared at Widowmaker.

"How about you suck me off? That'll help me focus."

Widowmaker scoffed and lowered her visor. The red bodies of hustling soldiers appeared in her viewfinder.

"They're moving, I'll cover your advance."

"I'm going for the prisoners," said Sombra.

"Our orders are to ground the aircraft," reminded Widowmaker snapping her visor open, "don't make this about you"

"Too fucking late," she replied darkly.

She stomped forward and disappeared. Several Talon stormtroopers hurried after her. Widowmaker sighed and fired her grappling hook whipping herself up to a vantage point. Sombra was nothing but trouble. Even more now that she seemed to have regressed to her pre-Talon behavior.


	16. Chapter 16

"Sir, their forces are splitting. Looks like less than 25 and an infantry fighting vehicle."

"That's nothing." The base commander pondered for a moment. "Get the helicopters and VTOL aircraft off the ground. Destroy that vehicle."

Pilots scrambled to their aircraft as ground crews loaded anti-tank missiles onto the aircraft pylons. Garrison troops hustled into defensive positions as Talon stormtroopers pushed onto the airfield to engage. The cockpit of a nearby tandem helicopter was riddled with gun fire and the pilot was filled with messy holes. The gunner in the upper seat panicked and returned fire at the advancing troops with the helicopter's ball turret. A Talon trooper took several hits to his shoulder. The trooper behind him pushed him aside and crouched as he zeroed in a shoulder mounted missile on the helicopter. It popped and fired. The gunner's eye's went wide with terror as he saw the missile approach.

He was fucked.

_BOOM!_

Government troops poured onto the airfield firing their weapons and the battle started in earnest. Widowmaker grappled to a nearby guard tower silently landing behind the stationed soldiers. After a quick flurry of hand-to-hand combat she'd dispatched them effortlessly. She gracefully trod over their bodies in her heels and patiently lined up her shots.

A soldier pulled the primer out of his grenade preparing to hurl it at charging Talon troops. Widow's rifle crackled and he collapsed to the ground with a bullet in his fore-brain. The grenade exploded in his hand wiping out three other soldiers. The next round clicked in. Nearby a driver was desperately trying move a fuel tanker away from the combat. With the crackle of rifle fire his head bounced off the back of the seat and crashed into the wheel. His dead foot jammed the pedal and the truck accelerated into a helicopter in mid liftoff.

_FWOOM!_

The vehicles exploded in a fireball. The next round clicked on. A shot to a soldier's foot caused him to trip in front of the troops behind him setting off a chain reaction of falling soldiers. The next round clicked in. A shot to another soldier's elbow caused him to twist and pull the trigger reflexively. He unloaded his rifle into his comrades as he twisted to the ground.

More shots and more chaos. Soldiers fell with insidiously well-placed shots meant to maximize physical pain and collateral damage. Soon her clip was empty. Widowmaker exhaled quickly and snapped open her visor.

" _Pas mal._ "

Sombra approached the door to the prison complex with her compliment of Talon stormtroopers in tow. Her soldiers took up positions outside as Sombra crouched next to the keypad and hacked it. It opened and they were met with a hail of machine gun fire. A fast thinking Talon trooper tossed in a grenade and the gun was silenced. They stormed in.

"Sir, they're inside," warned a government officer watching at a monitoring station.

"Ready a personal detail, I'll handle this myself," barked the base commander.

Sombra's eyes scanned the room. There was a boom in the distance and the lights went dim. Emergency lighting flickered on. The place looked more eerie than she remembered. Sombra was on edge, insidious evil shit happened at this facility. She gestured to her troops.

"Secure the cell blocks, I'll go for the control room," she ordered.

She cloaked and sprinted invisibly through the complex.

The alarm continued to blare, enemy soldiers hustled by oblivious to her presence as she followed the dismal winding concrete halls to the control room.

Her cloak was out of power and she was forced to deactivate it. She took cover around a corner near the control room and waited for it to recharge. She peered around the corner and saw a small guard detail escorting a high level officer approach the door. Sombra counted the seconds until her cloak would be fully charged.

3.

2.

1.

The door buzzed obnoxiously. The officer had just entered his pass code. Sombra cloaked and dove for the door sliding as she gunned down a guard. His back was riddled with bullets as Sombra uncloaked. The second guard turned to fire in surprise but he too was hosed down. The officer managed to get behind the soldier to use his body as a human shield. Sombra stood and continued to mercilessly pelt the body with bullets. He tried to draw his gun and shoot from behind his precarious cover but Sombra shot it out of his hand in her reckless spray. She'd emptied her clip.

"Come on, drop him. You're dead asshole," said Sombra as she reloaded, cockily stepping towards him, "you can't hide behind him forever."

She hated officers, she was going to bully this guy before he died.

Suddenly the officer pushed the dead man at her and Sombra saw his face. _No, impossible._ She fumbled the reload as her mind closed in terror. In her surprise he charged at her pinning her against the wall. They struggled for her gun as he pushed his deformed face at her, breathing his noxious breath into her face through his infected mouth. Sombra couldn't stand the smell or touch of him. She was overpowered, he wrenched the gun out of her hand and tossed it to the floor.

" _Fulana_..." said the officer ominously, "this situation seems familiar."

The voice sent a chill down Sombra's spine.

"Mendoza, I thought I killed you."

He laughed in her mouth but she gathered enough force to push him off. He stumbled back.

They stood before each other.

"You tried but you didn't go all the way."

"Your face..." said Sombra in disgust.

He grinned.

"You did quite a number on me, the nerve damage meant they couldn't replace my eye, at least not cheaply. But they could replace the other things you took," he said gesturing with his prosthetic arm. He regarded his cybernetic hand, twisting his wrist all the way around and grasping the air. "My jaw almost feels natural. They regrew the bone in a lab. But you crushed my balls, I'll give you that. I'll never have an erection ever again." The memory of Sombra finding and torturing him during her prison break played in her mind. "I have to pump my dick up like a balloon but there is one thing," he said with a perverse smile. "They made it bigger."

"Wife wasn't satisfied?" she quipped.

It wasn't her best but her mind was locked down by adrenaline and the thought of her persecutor's dick caused her mind to reel in displeasure and disgust. 

"We had a divorce."

"I'm sorry, not because of me I hope," she said feigning a degree of empathy.

"Don't flatter yourself, she said she wanted kids. But I know she couldn't bear the sight of me after what you did."

"Good," she replied flatly but her tone still betrayed a depth of cruelty.

They glowered at each other in silence. Sombra shifted her foot waiting for him to make a move but he seemed to want to talk.

"Nice hat,” she observed, “I didn't know they were promoting sadists."

"My service as a detention officer was distinguished," he replied, "but I could easily say the same thing to you."

"You really have no idea," she said narrowing her eyes. She gestured in front of him. "So, are we going to do this or what?"

"With pleasure."

They continued to glare at each other. Sombra eyed her gun. Mendoza's eye caught her lapse in attention and he struck. He charged with a furious punch but Sombra ducked and tackled him to the ground. Immediately, she stood and scrambled for her gun but he was on to her. Sombra yelped as he grabbed her foot and pulled her back down. He quickly mounted her but Sombra was an experienced and scrappy ground fighter. She bucked and flipped herself over going for his head and pulling it into her chest. She tried to swing her legs up to go for a choke but his prosthetic arm gave him unnatural strength. He pulled her legs apart and threw her off. Sombra had at least gotten out from under him. She pushed off of him with her legs and rolled back into a fighting stance.

"I'm going to enjoy this," he said snapping his jaw back into position.

Sombra spit.

She wasn't going to make this easy for him. She stepped in swinging her leg at his thighs like an ax. He took the hit three times before catching the last one and throwing her down. He stepped over her preparing to mount.

Sombra propped herself up into a crouch and looked over her shoulder. As he stepped in she twisted, flinging a spinning hook kick at his head like Lucio had taught her. He was caught off guard. It connected with Mendoza's jaw and he twisted away, stunned from the kick. Sombra was again standing, ready to fight.

She caught a glimpse of his visage with his jaw out of alignment. His face looked hollow and concave. She watched him again snap his jaw back into place. The collapsed details of his face reappeared as if it were an inflating balloon.

"Very interesting. You've learned some new tricks. Your fight is less desperate, more creative," he said somewhat intrigued.

"Don't like it? Maybe you can starve me for a few months to make it fair."

He smirked.

Sombra looked at Mendoza's eye. He didn't see that kick. It was coming from his blind side... Sombra switched her stance and waited for him to attack. He charged in with vicious knees and elbows, the CQC fighting style Mendoza had learned from U.S. advisors. Sombra blocked his painful blows panning to the right each time. Mendoza was clearly irritated by her circling.

"Why don't you fight?"

He committed to a sweeping left hook. Sombra ducked and stepped inside his guard, pushing him down by his neck as she kicked out his legs. The back of his head collided with the grated floor. Sombra pounced on him pressing her knee against his chest.

"Didn't see that one coming, did you?" she taunted.

She began to strike at his head repeatedly with her elbow, however, he laughed as she throttled his ugly face. Bruises formed and gave way to dehiscient wounds but he hardly cared. She gazed at him in dread as his face further and further deformed while she struck with increasing force after each blow. He seemed invincible, it was like she was fighting in a bad dream. Finally, he caught her blow with his prosthetic arm and kicked her off. He charged in while she stumbled back and tackled her to the ground again mounting her. He returned the favor with brutal blows to her head as he laughed and sputtered. Sombra raised her forearms to block his punches. Sombra's mind reeled as she was struck. There was something wrong. Her head wasn't in the fight, she could feel herself weakening.

She had been here before.

Mendoza felt her going limp. He picked her up by her shirt collar and swung a haymaker to her face. The punch connected and she twisted to the ground.

"What's wrong? I was enjoying our fight," he said as he grabbed her leg with his prosthetic arm.

She tried to think fast. It was suicide but she had to try it. He dragged her by her leg towards the control room. She scanned for devices and prayed that his prosthetic arm wasn't controlled by targeted muscle reinnervation. Bingo. A device in his brain emitted a signal which was being picked up by his arm. She could hack it. She activated her haptic keyboard and tapped a few times as she spun up some code in her head to take control of the arm's embedded system.

"What the hell are you doing?" muttered Mendoza as he dragged her.

Suddenly, his prosthetic arm went limp. It was now an awkward and heavy deadweight on his body. Sombra twisted out of his grip and Mendoza stood in horror as his arm dangled uselessly.

"What did you do?" he roared.

He jerked his shoulder several times trying to bring movement back to his limb. Sombra watched with amusement.

"It sucks not being in possession of your own body, doesn't it?" said Sombra coolly.

Suddenly the prosthetic arm jerked unnaturally. Mendoza recoiled in surprise as it thrust at his neck with inhuman speed and force. He was flung to the ground by the possessed limb.

"Oh man, I should've thought of this sooner," she said sauntering over to her gun.

"Fight fair!" he rasped as the limb tightened its grip around his neck.

"Aw, _pobricito_ ," she said stepping over him, "why should I? It was never fair between us..."

Mendoza realized he was finished. He turned to taunting.

"You think this will fix anything? You think this is justice? I know you, you acted traumatized but for you its just about power, you'd have done the same to me."

She stared at him silently as he struggled.

"Or is it revenge you want?" he laughed, "the balance is in my favor. What I did to you, I know you'll never forget. Revenge is for movies, killing me is a cop out—"

She closed the grip so he couldn't talk.

"Shut. Up." she said kneeling down into his face.

Sombra watched him struggle pathetically with empty eyes. She felt nothing. His neck veins strained to pump oxygen to his ailing brain. Sombra sensed he was about to lose consciousness but she wanted the satisfaction of killing him herself. She pushed the gun against his head and watched his one eye stare in paranoid fear at the gun barrel.

She fired.

He was dead.

A tear ran down her cheek. She'd been struggling not to cry throughout the entire fight. Sombra sniffed and wiped her nose and eyes but more tears came. The fear and terror subsided and all that was left was rage, rage for being utterly alone in solitary confinement as a political prisoner, tortured by her own repetitive thoughts of utter self-loathing, for being robbed of her ability to think coherently and retain a sense of identity, for being made into a pathetic person and believing she deserved and even enjoyed her punishment. She felt a familiar hotness overtake her brain. She'd been young when this happened, barely in her 20's. He'd robbed her of her youth.

"Fuck you!" she shouted at Mendoza's lifeless body.

She stood and unloaded an entire clip into his body. It was still not enough. She reloaded and fired another clip directly into his head until bloody chunks of brain oozed out of his skull. She spit and kicked his body before storming over to a corner where she sat crying into her hands. It was over but she couldn't feel calm. Peering through her fingers, she gazed at his corpse as tears streamed down her face. A spinning emergency light illuminated his mutilated face in intervals. Slowly, her mouth twisted into a smile and her crying became giddy laughter as she made a realization. 

It was over.

She dried her eyes with the back of her hand as she stood and stepped into the control room.

It was mysteriously empty of people. Sombra found a command console and performed a quick hack. She was in. The prison complex administrator panel opened up. Nothing left to do now but open the doors.

She tapped on the screen opening the cell doors for all of the blocks. A second alarm for the prison complex activated.

It was time to meet her new friends.

 

* * *

 

_Later that day..._

Cheering crowds formed around the convoys of technicals, bulldozers, and flatbed trucks carrying FLN troops as they disembarked from the countryside for Mexico City. Many of the larger trucks were ancient combustion engine era equipment, captured, recaptured and refurbished time and time again over the chaos of the country's history. The soldiers waved carrying their AK-47s, M-16s and captured plasma rifles. Lucio watched the news from a hospital next to Alejandra. He was exhausted from spending the night helping injured people in the square. Once he was no longer needed, he had stayed with Alejandra all night and into the day.

"It's crazy out there," murmured Lucio, "I thought it was just a protest movement but this is bigger."

The news correspondent droned on in the background.

"Fighting erupted outside Mexico City today as government forces engaged brigades of FLN fighters trying to enter the city via motorized convoys. FLN forces say that they're protecting anti-Portero protestors from violence and political repression which they claim is in violation of their human rights. This occurs amidst a widespread government crackdown in response to leaks of thousands of emails which transparency activists claim are proof of the Portero administration's corruption. The Mexican government has been criticized by human rights groups for its alleged use of torture and the killing of political dissidents during the Dia De Los Muertos uprising last year. An anonymous government spokesperson asserted, however, that the FLN are a terrorist group which has ties to the Los Muertos cartel and that they are directly responsible for agitating the protests..."

"No mention of the terrorist attack," muttered Hana.

"That's international news for you," said Alejandra with a cough.

"So, no one to take responsibility..." added Lucio darkly.

Lucio thought about everything that had happened. He, Hana and Alejandra had spent the night pouring over social media feeds and news articles to get a sense of what was going on. The pictures and footage were apocalyptic. Protesters running from teargas grenades, people lying dead in the streets, journalists being fired on by riot police, burnt out cop cars, protesters driving captured military vehicles, government buildings pelted with rocks and hollowed out by onslaughts of Molotov cocktails. Miguel's address was all over the headlines of independent news outlets. State news agencies countered saying that the statement was totally false and that president was safe and the city was under control. The press slammed Lucio for being a terrorist while independent and left-wing outlets were calling him a pro-democracy activist and a hero. Los Muertos and the FLN were being brutalized in the press for being violent terrorist organizations. A candid picture of him holding Hana after the attack on Zócalo square was circulating on Twitter with the hashtags _amantes_ and _protesta_.

It was all apart of Sombra's plan. He couldn't believe that just yesterday he had been with her, that he was at the center of the conspiracy. He had no idea that Miguel was going to go for Portero.

This was a revolution.

Sombra watched the same broadcast in her hand yawning as she rested on the nose cone of a destroyed fighter. Her Talon forces had decimated the base by letting loose the prisoners at the infamous detention center and setting off a massive fuel explosion. The prisoners, after reaching the armory, made short work of the rest of the base with violent glee.

The mission was a success.

It was time to send out the message.

> _Los Muertos,_
> 
> _Yesterday I set off the bombs at Los Pinos and the National Palace to prove two things. 1., that power is vulnerable: we can strike wherever we want and no place is secure, 2., that this revolution happens our way or no way._
> 
> _O-31 failed because it couldn't decide if it was a peaceful or violent, if it wanted to take power or transform it. Now there is no going back._
> 
> _Forget what you heard from the FLN. Portero is dead. There will be no negotiation with the government. The protest movement can no longer ask for his resignation. Instead we will ask for a new government._
> 
> _Yesterday was the start of a revolution. It is not a phase of the FLN's ongoing war against the state. Its not a coup either. The hardliners thought they could strike Portero first then use the chaos as an excuse for the military to take over the government (turns out I wasn't the only one who wanted Portero's head on a platter). When they failed, the vindictive bastards decided to side with the FLN. They are meeting together right now in Chapultepec Castle, deciding the future of this country._
> 
> _The FLN takes our guns and money but laughs at our politics. They only view us as a useful way to fund their peasant war. They believe that only a slow protracted guerrilla war will allow them to take over the country and that spontaneous popular uprisings are a pipe dream. In other words, they don't respect us._
> 
> _They think they can shut Los Muertos out._
> 
> _They are wrong._
> 
> _Today at 9 pm, we will march on Chapultepec Castle and show our "friends" who this city belongs to._
> 
> _\- Sombra_

The message went out over a number of long dormant O-31 social media accounts. Attached was footage of Miguel ordering Los Muertos to disarm. It had generated quite a bit of fervor among the radical left in Mexico City. Lucio witnessed it on his phone in the hospital with Alejandra and Hana.

He gripped his phone and tensed with anger.

“What is it Lucio?”

“It was Sombra... she was behind the attacks.”

Hana looked to Lucio, trying to empathize with what he was feeling. She watched his face twist as he was overcome with anger. She’d never seen him like this.

“Sombra? Like the hacker?” said Alejandra, “Lucio, what does it mean?”

“She's dead to me,” said Lucio squeezing his phone.

Suddenly, the screen cracked. He threw the phone into the waste bin causing Hana to jump.

“She?” said Alejandra, “Lucio, Sombra is just a personality. They're like a collective of hackers, there's proof that they're not even a human. They've done attacks simultaneously that can't be done by a single person or an omnic. Not to mention that they lie and bluster, they take credit for things that have nothing to do with them. I was part of O-31, its just propaganda.”

Hana shook her head. “No, Sombra is a person all right, we've had all too much contact with her.”

“What?” Alejandra laughed but then her voice became solemn, “What? No way. They're an urban myth.”

“Please, Alejandra...” said Hana putting her hand on her shoulder.

“Everyone wants to know who Sombra is, well I know,” said Lucio, “she was my friend.”

He sat and contemplated as he looked at the floor. He buried his face in his hands as he was overcome with a sense of dread. Sombra really was evil. He couldn't believe it. But maybe Alejandra was right, it was not beyond her to take credit for something someone else had done. He weighed the options. No, it was her all right. 'Power is vulnerable,' she'd used that phrase when she helped him pen his own manifesto all those years ago. 

“I'll stop her,” he said finally, “I'll meet her at 9 pm.”

A chill went down Hana's spine. She pleaded to go with him but he wouldn't have it. This was personal.

 

* * *

 

The black Talon APC moved slowly through a crowd of protesters as it approached Chapultepec castle. Sombra had spray painted Los Muertos markings on the exterior earlier so people wouldn't fuck with it. She sat moodily in the vehicle across from Widowmaker with her legs spread and her arms crossed. Widowmaker, conversely, sat with her legs elegantly folded as she smiled at Sombra. The ride was bumpy.

“What are you so happy about?” asked Sombra.

“I'm just curious about your surprise,” replied Widowmaker.

She knocked her knuckles against the metal interior of the vehicle.

“No secret, its right outside,” she said.

Widowmaker frowned, she knew she meant the protesters.

The APC approached the front of the crowd gathering in the main drive of the castle. The majority sported Los Muertos tattoos and carried makeshift weapons. They were getting rowdy. Sombra waited to dismount holding a handrail mounted above the the loading door. The door opened and the Talon troops piled out around her. She stepped down with Widowmaker by her side walking briskly into the building. Miguel's war-battered FLN troops met them at the main entrance doorway. Sombra glared at them as they passed.

Miguel approached Sombra when he saw her enter. “What are all these people doing here? Did you have something to do with this?” he shouted. Sombra gave a sly smile. “Is this your surprise?” he again shouted becoming outraged. He nodded a few times at her in annoyance. “OK, well, I have a surprise for you... Your friend is here to see you.”

Miguel stepped aside to reveal Lucio sitting at the makeshift command table in a black hoodie. His hood was up, presumably to conceal his identity as he made his way through the crowds. He was frowning. His expression was troubled.

“Lucio!” She ran up to him in excitement but detected something was wrong as she approached. “Luico...” she said solemnly as he stood to meet her.

“What? Surprised I'm not happy to see me after you tried to blow me and Hana up?”

Sombra laughed and shrugged. “Hey, no hard feelings right?”

Lucio stepped up to Sombra overshadowing her as Miguel consorted with his troops in the background.

“Sir, the protesters are growing agitated,” a soldier whispered into Miguel's ear.

“The FLN troops are still hours away, we have to find some way to delay the protesters or get them to leave,” he replied in a low tone.

Widowmaker inspected Miguel's face from afar to see how he was handling the situation. Her acute vision could see the veins on his neck constricting as the stress hit his body.

“Sir, we're not going to use FLN troops to stop the protesters are we?”

Miguel contemplated grimly.

“No, never. They will merely block them from entering. But if they don't arrive in time we will have to evacuate this building...”

The soldier gazed at him with distrustful and war-weary eyes. “We're going to put it to a vote...”

Lucio continued to glare at Sombra. Suddenly, he took her hand forcefully and walked her out of the room.

“Hold off on that vote for now, _compañero_. There's one person who knows whats going on here,” said Miguel. “Sombra!” he called but there was no response. “Damn it, where did she go? What did she say to the protesters? We need a handle on the situation...”

Widowmaker gestured to a Talon operative and began whispering in his ear. Miguel caught the exchange out of the corner of his eye. _So, that's what that feels like_ , he thought. He turned to his troops and shut it out.

“Did anyone see where she went?” he asked.

“She was talking to Lucio, sir.”

“That was the last you saw of them?”

The soldier nodded and Miguel rested his face in his palm. Already he was feeling out of control. A light panic crept up but he came to and regained his composure.

“They couldn't have gone far,” he shouted, “find them!”


	17. Chapter 17

Lucio tugged Sombra down the castle's eclectic neo-classical and romantic hallways.

“Why are you pulling on me?” she complained as she threw her arm down, “where are we going? I can fucking walk myself.”

“We're talking in private,” he said taking her arm back.

“Oh boy, you _are_ mad.”

They disappeared into an ornate bedroom. Several soldiers rushed by.

“Do you think this is all a fucking joke, Sombra?” Lucio said through his teeth. He was trying to keep his voice down, “you could have killed me and Hana yesterday!”

Sombra looked at the ground but then smirked when a nihilistic feeling hit her. She spoke in a normal tone with little care of getting caught.

“Yeah, tell it to me,” she sneered. “Want to hit me? Come on, teach me a lesson. Even me out.”

Sombra pointed to her cheek and smacked herself to goad him on. Lucio sighed in exasperation. He hated it when Sombra was like this. There was no way to get through to her.

“I've been talked down to by men trying to assert their bullshit authority over me for the last three days,” she continued.

“People just don't matter to you, Sombra,” Lucio hissed.

“You know the type of person I am, _guey_. You're acting like this is new,” she said folding her arms, “its not my business if you like it or not.”

“I guess I do, I don't know why I'm surprised,” he replied.

“Is there a but? I bet there's a but.”

Yes, there was a “but.” Lucio sighed.

“Every time I think you've reached the limit, you go lower and lower _and lower_ ,” he said, “I've really gone out of my way for you on this one-”

“You're mad it was you!” Sombra interrupted.

Sombra inspected his face to see if she was right wearing a perverse grin. His expression turned worried. She’d nailed him. _So predictable_.

Sombra laughed cruelly.

“What’s so funny? Don't bring me to your level,” he said, “No, Sombra, its the people. You killed peaceful protesters. You're worse than the government. I read your thing, you blew me up because you didn't like the way I was handling it. You wanted violence.”

She turned her back to him.

“I always bring people to my level, _pendejo_ ,” she chided as she stepped away from him with a grandiose gesture, “besides, I don't remember asking you to get involved. I told you not to fuck with me, Lucio...” Sombra's eye's shifted, a paranoid thought crossed her mind and she turned around. “So, what’re you doing here, huh,  _cabron_? You just wanted to chew me out? I'm a hopeless case, you're better off just killing me.”

Lucio averted his eyes. Perhaps it was true. His mind turned to his audio gun strapped to his hip. Would Sombra expect it? Sombra was taking him apart with her eyes. Every millisecond she was absorbing details about him a human mind would never recognize. The infernal machine on her back processed away at a steady clip. Who could know what it was feeding into her disordered mind?

“Lucio,” she said with sudden seriousness, “let it go.”

His eyes shifted as he came to his final conclusion about her.

“Let it go,” she repeated, her voice was cold and clinical.

Lucio closed his eyes. It was impending. He knew he had to do this. He opened them, glaring at her with determination. “No.”

Sombra shifted her foot and steadied her stance. Lucio felt the air with his fingers. They glared at each other in deadly silence.

“I'm surprised, Lucio,” she said as she began to stalk to the left, “I didn't know you had it in you.”

“I stand up for people who can't stand up for themselves,” he replied as his eyes tracked her intently, “I'm pretty consistent that way.”

Sombra stalked to the right.

“I should have known—”

“You'd have seen it if you respected me,” he interrupted.

Sombra stopped and stared at him with cold-blooded eyes.

“What do you know?” she replied icily as she disappeared.

Lucio's eyes widened in surprise. _Of course_ , he thought. He drew his audio gun.

“Running away? Typical...”

Lucio felt his legs come out from under him. The axis of the room tilted as he felt her hammer his chest with her forearm as he fell. The wind left his lungs as he hit the ground fighting for his life. Immediately, Sombra pounced on him, viciously elbowing his head. He was struck several times with disorienting blows before he was forced to let go of his gun and block her strikes with both arms. Sombra pulled back to get more momentum on her strike then fell into him. He caught her elbow short and locked it. Sombra's expression turned to surprise as he bucked his hips and twisted her on her side. Now he was in control. She looked up at him with enraged eyes as he tried to press her head against the ground.

She pulled out a translocator and slammed it against the ground. In a flash she was standing over him. She kicked his rib as he lost balance from her sudden escape. Lucio took the hit but scampered to pick up his gun.

Their eyes mutually fell on the gun then met one another. Hers were fearful. She hated that gun, he'd used it to calm her down more than once. He pulled the trigger and she went sailing backwards into a priceless antique table from the Second Mexican Empire. She sat up and shook out her head before drawing her gun.

"Son of a bitch," she muttered as she cocked it and held it with both hands close to her chest.

Lucio's eyes zeroed on the gun and he felt his adrenaline spike. His reflexes kicked in and he flung his body as her machine pistol noisily unloaded a hail of bullets towards him. Bullets passed inches over his head as he barely managed to dodge behind a desk.

Sombra shredded the elegant room with indiscriminate gun fire.

“You hear that?” said an FLN soldier on the search for Sombra.

He and his comrade scampered down the elaborate checkered hallways in the direction of the fire.

Lucio looked at his audio gun. It was useless unless he was up close. He set it to its heal mode and holstered it. He'd need his hands free for this maneuver.

He heard Sombra's gun click. The spray of gun fire stopped. She was reckless with ammunition. He jumped from behind the desk and charged her as she reloaded.

Too slow.

She inelegantly sprayed more bullets at him but Lucio had just barely cleared the distance. He was nicked in the arm and torso by two bullets as he twisted in the air and kicked the gun out her hand landing in a capoeira stance.

Now Lucio had the advantage. He ginga'd briefly then kicked his right leg at her as a fake. She moved to block but Lucio threw himself and executed a flawless butterfly kick. Both feet connected with her face. He landed gracefully as she fell to the ground disoriented. Lucio took the opportunity to kick the gun away.

“We've never fought, Sombra,” he said as he swayed side to side in a rhythmic dance.

Sombra gave an injured chuckle as she stood. Her nose was bleeding, she wiped it off with the back of her wrist and glared at Lucio with her sleepless calculating eyes. "Man, I'm gonna enjoy this," she said with a sadistic smile.

She grabbed a leg of the destroyed table and watched his footwork.

“Hmm, that looks tiring...” she taunted.

"Nah, I can do this all day."

Sombra grit her teeth and came in swinging for his head. He ducked and the table leg whooshed over. Lucio charged while she was off balance connecting hard. He picked her up and slammed her against the ground causing her to drop the leg. Sombra, however, liked to fight close. Unfazed, she wrapped her legs over his waist and grabbed the back of his head pulling it close to her chest. It was her favorite move, she could choke out opponents much stronger than her.

Lucio felt himself choke against his arm, she was trying to kill him. He tried striking her ribs and the back of her head to get free to no avail. Lucio caught a glimpse of Sombra's expression as he struggled. Even as he struck her she was looking past him wistfully as if she wasn't there. The punches weren't working, she was holding him was too close. He needed to pull her legs off. Lucio violently bucked to free his arms and used them to push against her pelvis.

Sombra caught the irony of the situation. To an outside observer this part of the fight could almost look sensual. As if she was intimately hugging his neck and he was pulling her pelvis close.

“Does it feel good to finally knock me around? Does it make you hot, Lucio?" she chided, “I always wondered why you were too pathetic to just fuck me.”

He groaned as he strained to push her legs away. Slowly, centimeter by centimeter, he was managing to loosen her grip. Sombra's face twisted with exertion and she began to yell as she lost her grip. Finally, she gasped as he defeated her leg lock and broke free. However, as he pulled his head out of her arms she raked the side of his face with her razor sharp nails catching his right eye. Lucio cursed in pain as he stumbled away holding his wounded face.

Sombra stood, rolled her shoulders back to briefly reset herself, then picked up the leg.

Lucio looked up through his fingers in time to see the table leg connect with his face. He fell to the ground with a thud.

Sombra smiled.

She became relentless with the advantage as Lucio tried to scramble off the ground. Again, she swung at him but this time with such force that the top third of the leg broke against his body. Without his audio gun healing him she would have easily cracked his ribs. She pulled back and swung yet again but he forced himself to step through the strike and painfully block the hit with his forearm. With her third brutal swing he caught the leg short. Her smile disappeared as he charged into her with his shoulder and slammed her against the wall. She gasped as she felt the wind knock out of her. A priceless painting to fell to the floor from the impact. Lucio tried to twist the weapon out of her grip with both hands.

Bad move.

With her free hand she raked at his ear with her claws, digging in and scraping all the way down the side of his body. Lucio grit his teeth as her surgically sharpened metal nails carved through his flesh. He checked her again with his body causing her to finally drop the leg and slump to the floor.

There was a brief pause as Sombra felt how injured she was, she needed to get away from the wall or she would lose. But Sombra had taught Lucio that for this fight he had to be merciless, he took the opportunity to pick her up by her shirt. He caught her rebellious eyes and knew there was still a ton of fight in her. He would have to take it out. She exploded forward from his grasp, slashing with her nails but Lucio dodged back and front kicked her back putting a hole in the 300 year old wall.

She crumpled.

He moved in with a flurry of punches. Sombra blocked painfully with her forearms and struck back catching him with an elbow to his head. Lucio recoiled and his barrage stopped for a split second while he was disoriented. She smirked from her sudden advantage but he unexpectedly twisted back with his own elbow to her head. She was stunned. Now he used the opportunity to hammer her down with strikes to the head. Sombra hid behind her forearms blocking most of them but was too winded to fight through them all or find a clever way to counter. She went for a desperate tackle but she failed to get leverage and he again pushed her off into the now decimated wall.

She glared it him with burning hateful eyes.

“I won't stop, you'll have to kill me,” she spat.

The deep slash on the side of his body slowly healed before her from his audio gun. It dawned on her that she was going to lose this fight unless she took it away.

“God damn you, Sombra.”

She went in to strike but he caught the blow and pushed her off. He didn't follow up. She struck again and he again threw her off. She sensed something was off.

“What is it, you fucking coward? You beat me. Don't fucking embarrass me and just finish the job!” she shouted through her teeth, “what, is it because I'm your 'friend'?”

Lucio stood silently and glared at her.

“You— either you kill me or I kill you. Do you think I fucking care?” she cursed.

Lucio cursed and stepped back. Sombra watched him with contempt as he looked at the floor and panted propping himself up on his knees. The blood from Sombra's slash was getting in his eyes. He wiped it off his face and flicked it to the ground before looking up at her. They glared at each other hatefully for a long while.

Suddenly, Sombra threw her arms down impatiently and stomped towards him with the intention of ripping out his throat out but Lucio finally spoke, “Sombra, I love you.”

She blinked as she was given pause. They were both panting, bleeding and covered in ancient dust. The room was utterly decimated from their whirlwind combat. The sounds of the chaos outside echoed into the room.

“You _what?_ ” she said darkly.

“I love you, Sombra,” he shouted angrily at her, “I fucking love you. You want to know how pathetic I am? After all this, I love you!”

The absurdity of it all hit Lucio like an asteroid. He laughed almost maniacally for a moment.

“Yeah,” he sighed, “I can't kill you, Sombra. I know its the right thing to do. But, I love you.” He laughed again, the sound of the phrase was too absurd. “You were right, I was mad you tried to kill me because I thought that even though you do whatever you want to people you would never do it to me. I thought we were close somehow and that our fucked up friendship and all we've ever been through meant something to you.”

Sombra glared at Lucio. He'd gone completely mad.

“Lucio, what are you saying?” she asked softly almost whispering.

“Isn't it obvious!?” he shouted with such force he was shaking, “I love you!” He groaned and held his head as he sat on the floor. “Oh God, what am I doing? I'm insane, Sombra...”

The room was quiet except for the chanting of the crowd outside.

Sombra stared at him in disbelief as he closed his eyes and held his head. He felt Sombra’s shadow on him as she approached.  _What the hell am I doing?_ he thought. She would probably just kill him but he didn't care, he'd wanted to say it for so long.

“Lucio...”

“Sombra, I am a dumbass,” he said, “I must be the stupidest fucker in the world, I know you don't care.” He hung his head. “I know now that you don't care...”

Sombra felt something hot on her cheek. It ran through the accumulated dust on her face and fell to the floor. A strange feeling crept into her chest and into her heart as it pumped with rage and adrenaline. It was a pang but it melted her.

Slowly, confused tears of hatred and joy began to well up in her eyes and trickle down her face.

Lucio looked up in surprise as he felt her tears run down his arm. She wrapped her arm affectionately around his neck and held his head against hers. There was some kind of weird release in his body as she pressed against him. Bloody tears started to run down his cheeks.

“I've always known but I didn't know it was like this...” she said softly.

“Fuck,” Lucio muttered as he trembled, “I hate myself...”

Sombra shushed him.

They sat quietly together for a moment that felt like a small infinity. Their touch was pacifying to one another as they spoke between long pauses of heavy silence.

“How could you do it, Sombra? All those people?”

“I had to,” she started to say.

“Just don't answer, I know you're fucked up,” said Lucio interrupting her through his tears.

“I'm more than fucked up, Lucio,” she replied, “if you'd lived my life you'd feel it was violent to do it your way.”

“Its still not right, Sombra. Its not just about you.”

He held her tightly but Lucio would never understand. They pressed their heads close and cried together as the sound of the crowd grew. Sombra pulled away to look at Lucio. His face was inflamed and bruised from their fight. He was not looking good. Sombra ripped a strip off her sweaty shirt. It would have to do. She tried to wipe the blood off from where she had slashed her.

“You're making it worse.”

“I know.”

He at least looked a little better... The two held hands melancholically as they sat next to each other for a long while. 

“What are we doing?” asked Sombra after a while.

“I don't know... We're stealing time.”

They listened to the sound of the growing crowd outside. The apocalypse was brewing.

“I wish I was different,” said Sombra as Lucio held her, “I don't know why bad things had to happen to me, I don't want to be like this.”

Lucio sighed, his saliva was viscous from crying. He didn't know what she was talking about. He knew that she’d had it rough but she never talked about what happened to her.

“I'm sorry, Sombra. Its not fair to you.”

“I'm so tired, Lucio... Nothing can help me,” she said gripping him tightly.

Sombra sought his lips and they kissed softly for a brief moment. Lucio closed his eyes. He felt her grab at his hip. He opened them.

She was holding the audio gun.

“You really are stupid,” she said derisively.

Lucio was horrified. Did she just play along with what he was saying? Had she just been trying on emotion? Was she actually that manipulative, to play this to the hilt?

“I gotta say, though, I haven't had my ass whooped like that in a while. I didn't see that coming,” she said aiming it at him as she got up. “What? Nothing to say?”

Lucio was utterly flabbergasted as the gravity of his mistake dawned on him. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, he could do. He glared at her intensely. A new emotion swelled in him. He felt hateful. He hated Sombra. How could she do this to him? The feelings he experienced after learning Sombra was responsible for that attack hit him again. It was almost as if all this was repeating.

He should have known.

Two FLN soldiers arrived in the doorway.

“Sombra, Lt. Miguel demands to see you immediately.”

“Coming,” she said sweetly, “see ya, Lucio.”

Lucio sat silently for a long while after they left. Suddenly, he pounded his fist against the floor and cried “FUCK!” as hard as he possibly could.

 

* * *

 

Miguel looked out one of the grand windows of the castle. The crowd of Los Muertos was massive. How are we going to get out of this one? he thought.

“Miguel, you called,” came Sombra's voice from behind.

“Sombra, what the hell is going on? Where were you?”

“Having a talk.”

“These protesters going nuts, what did you tell them?”

Sombra frowned sarcastically.

“Nothing. I told them what's going on.”

“I'm serious, Sombra. This is not a joke. My men are questioning my leadership, I can see it in their eyes. Your friend Widowmaker is eyeing me like a chew toy.”

Sombra gave him an incredulous smile.

“So you're confiding with me now?” she scoffed, “I thought we were fighting...”

“I know you're behind this, those are Los Muertos outside. You told them something.”

“The discussion you want to have, friend, is with them, not me,” Sombra said then smiled, “what do you say we take this outside?”

“And how am I supposed to talk to a raging crowd?”

Sombra waved the audio gun at him.

“Gift from Lucio.”

Sombra stepped towards the the exit but Miguel put his hand on her shoulder.

“What am I supposed to say?”

She turned to him and smiled.

“You said it was time to think strategically. Well, I think its time to think like a politician. Now's your chance to make promises, captain.”

Miguel scratched his head as he thought for a moment.

“Its lieutenant...”

“Just follow my lead, make like we've been fighting.”

“We _have_ been fighting...”

Miguel and Sombra stepped into the drive of Chapultepec castle. A crowd of several thousand Los Muertos and O-31 protesters stood outside. Some carried torches and weapons, others carried anti-government protest signs. A black bloc was at the head, ready to cause chaos at a moment's notice.

Sombra stepped before them.

“O-31, I am Sombra,” she said into Lucio's audio gun like a bullhorn.

There was some scattered cheering and a murmur of knowing laughter from the crowd. Sombra was, of course, a made up person representing their political collective.

“I'll be brief, your presence has forced the FLN, our wayward parent organization and purported ally, to the bargaining table. We have shown them that there will be no going forward without Los Muertos. In order for this to be a legitimate revolution and not just a bullshit coup, the people need to be involved. Lt. Miguel of the FLN, the man you saw yesterday lead us to victory against Portero and disarm the Los Muertos in Los Pinos, is here to explain his actions,” she said with her 'activist' voice.

She passed the audio gun to Miguel. “Knock 'em dead.”

Miguel cleared his throat and fumbled with the gun until he found the bullhorn mode. The crowd stared at him during the awkward silence.

“Damn thing,” he muttered. “OK, Los Muertos, brave revolutionaries, and those of you who wish to make your voices heard...”

There were scattered boos in the crowd. Miguel looked over to Sombra. She pouted and kicked her foot impatiently.

“Don't look at me. Say the thing,” she said.

He turned back towards the crowd.

“Yesterday we disarmed the protesters at Los Pinos for the sake of protecting them. The FLN will take over the task of fighting the government. You no longer have to risk your lives, your efforts are needed elsewhere...”

A negative murmur arose from the crowd.

“That's not OK?” asked Miguel. He was bombing. Sombra grabbed her hair and contemplated ripping the gun from his hands but, suddenly, Miguel became firm. “So, it isn't OK. But let me explain to you what is going to happen. The FLN is already engaged. We know how to fight this war. Last year you tried to revolt with your enthusiasm for flash mobs, social media, and skepticism of traditional organizations like the FLN. It failed. The FLN is here to make sure that this is a real revolution. You can't do it without us.”

He licked his lips and nodded as the message sank in. The crowd started to truly listen.

“Yeah, you know what happened. You all remember.” He was antagonizing them but at least he had their attention. “Your representative, Sombra, tells you that you have brought the FLN to the bargaining table. Well, she is not entirely honest. I am here to tell you that I am not acting on behalf of the FLN. I led you to victory yesterday on behalf of a greater concept.”

Confused hubbub emerged from the crowd. Sombra looked at Miguel curiously. What was he doing?

“You heard me correctly. This is a revolution. It is not about political parties. We are building a new society, with new laws and a new government. If you have truly 'brought me to the bargaining table' then come forward now. We must work constructively together to form a government. If you want to partake in the process, send your representatives forward and meet me inside. Or come all at once, I don't care. But do not burn down this building. We need a capital and we've destroyed everything else.”

“Are you insane, Miguel?” said Sombra wide-eyed.

The crowd shifted, unsure of how to receive the message. Miguel detected their hesitation and decided to make his message more obvious.

“This is it _compañeros_ , I am declaring a new government, right here, right now. The old government is dead. We've chopped off the head. But the real work is ahead of us. If you will accept it, we will lead a new government of workers and peasants. One that is forming before your eyes. This is our first assembly, an assembly of the people of Mexico City. So, this is your chance, Los Muertos. Let your voice be heard or go home.”

The crowd cheered. Lucio sat in the room where he had fought Sombra sitting right where she’d left him. He hung his head and listened to the words from his audio gun enter the room. Widowmaker watched from above, secluded in her vantage point.

“My God, Miguel, you do have a way with words...” said Sombra under her breath.

“What can I say? I got impatient, I'm not used to explaining myself,” he replied, “I'm not Che.”

He nodded to the Talon soldiers guarding the entrance to clear the way and pushed the audio gun at Sombra. She oofed as she took it back.

“I'll need your organizational skills,” said Miguel, “you know, the magic you worked in the squat. Can you do it with several thousand people?”

Sombra half-smiled.

“I'll give it a shot,” she said cocking her head.

“Good,” he replied, “I don't want to get bogged down in politics.”

Miguel stepped into the entrance and waited on the other side. The protesters talked among themselves. Were they truly invited in?

A teenage punk neared the door and stared at the imposing Talon stormtrooper guarding the doorway. The trooper kept his head straight as he looked forward. The punk's eyes shifted. He daintily touched his toe on the other side of the door. A large crowd watched from behind. The stormtrooper continued to hold his gaze forward. He stepped in confidently and saw Miguel.

“Hello, _compañero_ , now you can see I'm just a man,” he extended his hand to shake.

The punk stepped up and shook his hand apprehensively.

“I like you, you’re a terrible politician and your speeches suck,” said the punk, “But you’re the first politician I've seen this close.”

Miguel smiled. “I’m just a simple soldier.”

An eclectic group of queer Los Muertos squatters followed, then the Mexico City Black Bloc streamed in, feminist sex-workers, homeless people, the patients collective, anti-fascists, unemployed radical social workers, lawyers and school teachers, excons—the whole gamut of the O-31 movement's bizarre political constellation poured into the building. Miguel did his best to shake hands with everyone who entered. They had a long night ahead of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't tell if this has gone totally off the rails or is like my magnum opus (after editing, of course). Let me know in the comments, I'm starved for feedback.


	18. Chapter 18

Lucio finally got up off the floor of the trashed bedroom. He was in a daze about what had happened. The building was filling with people. Should he find Sombra? Could he ever face her again? He needed his audio gun back. There was no way he could leave without it...

He wandered aimlessly through the hallways. The rooms were filling with people taking hand counts, debating, drafting proposals, they shouted and fought and cheered. Something big was happening here. He couldn't claim to understand. He put his hoodie up so no one would recognize him as he walked past.

Hana was back at the hospital probably bored from waiting for him.

How could he face her?

He found himself in an empty part of the castle. He was right outside the Alcazar. He stepped into the garden area and felt a November wind on his skin. It was night time. The sky lit up over the outskirts of the city with tracers and artillery fire. The FLN was pushing into the city. Suddenly, he heard Sombra's voice from the hallway behind him. He hid against a statue. She was muttering to herself.

Sombra stepped into the Alcazar and gazed the night sky wistfully as the rumble of artillery sounded in the distance. The audio gun was holstered on her belt with a carabiner clip. He could surprise her and take it from her, she would never expect it...

The November breeze hit again and kicked up dust and leaves from the garden path. When Sombra turned a man in a barn owl mask stood in front of her, seeming to have materialized from nothing.

"What the fuck?" Lucio almost said aloud but he caught himself.

“Sombra,” the figure spoke.

“Ah, Reaper, about time you showed up,” she said and smiled, “are you here to witness our little victory?”

“You're in a good mood for once.”

“I'm a little, uh, punch drunk,” she replied, “its been a long couple of days.”

“Right...” he said, “lets get to business-”

Lucio shifted to change his position but it made more sound than he anticipated as his shoe scuffed on the plinth of the statue.

“We're not alone,” said Reaper detecting the noise.

He drew his shotguns and dematerialized. Lucio tried to scamper away but Reaper suddenly manifested in front of him. Lucio fell back in surprise.

“The pop star...” he said disdainfully.

“Reaper, no!” shouted Sombra.

Reaper humphed and holstered his weapons as Sombra ran to his side.

“Deal with this,” he said and disappeared.

Sombra turned to Lucio.

“You are _funny_ , moping around the castle. Shouldn't you go home to Hana?”

Lucio couldn't believe Sombra's tone. She was friendly, as if nothing had happened between them. He couldn't understand her.

“You have my gun,” he said darkly.

Sombra drew the audio gun and posed herself.

“Its not bad. It dealt with the bruises you gave me pretty well. You know, I was going to give it back when I was done.” Lucio was silent. Sombra chuckled at him. “What, you don't believe me?”

“No.”

“I saved your life just now, _cabron_. You want to show some appreciation?” She eyed him playfully. “Bah, well, you have good reason...” she said sighing. “I have to say, Lucio, people think I'm insane but you're nuts. You thought you could just beat the shit out of me and that would make everything OK?”

He was silent.

“Lucio!” she shouted and laughed. “You came here to kill me! You're not thinking straight! Besides, its me. What the fuck did you think was going to happen?”

“How can you be like this?”

“I'm like this, _cabron_ ,” she said making a wave motion with her hand, “I'm up and then down, you know me.” Sombra gauged Lucio's face, he was dark with anger and despair. “Oh man, where's Hana? You gotta go home. You're gonna make a mistake, _mijo_ ,” she said shaking her head and laughing. “What? Why are you upset, just because I stole your stupid gun? Here take it back,” she said pushing it into his hands.

“Sombra, you were going to kill me and everything you said...”

“What, do you think I was lying? Do you think I just pretend to have emotions?” Lucio looked down and thought to himself. The faintest feeling of happiness hit him but he was still thick and sluggish with depression. He had been riding Sombra's wave the whole time he was here. It was getting to be all too much. “Why do you think I'm happy, _pendejo_? I'm pretty low class, someone tells me they love me and I get all ditsy.”

“What?” said Lucio in disbelief.

It was almost too exhausting to hear, he didn't want to get his hopes up. No, he should take the gun and go back to the hospital. He should leave this country and never see Sombra again and just cut his losses. But he felt like he was hanging over an abyss.

Sombra approached him and looked over his face with interested eyes. She could sense he was frozen, awash in complicated and contradictory feelings. She held up her hand and he eyed it nervously. Slowly she placed it on his cheek. She was testing him. He let her touch him and she gave an arrogant smile. _Like clockwork_ , she thought. She could do anything she wanted to him.

“I-I hate you,” he said, “you ruin everything...”

“Ohhhhh, _pobricito_ ,” she chided, “you better get out right now or I'm gonna hurt you.”

He hesitated. Her touch was electric yet assuasive. She raised her eyebrows at him as she inspected his eyes. No sign he was going to move. Sombra moved her face in front of his until she was mere inches away. She looked at his lips curiously as she delicately placed her hand around his throat.

“Come on, you wanted this,” she said touching her lips against his chin.

She sought his lips and they connected. They kissed hesitantly at first but quickly became impassioned. He dropped the audio gun and grabbed her pushing into her hard. Sombra let out a little gasp from the sudden force and did the same. They couldn't feel close enough as they kissed. Sombra and Lucio had kissed many times before but this was different. They’d missed this encounter for years. Suddenly, Sombra undulated and pushed him away but then pulled him back close to talk.

She’d miscalculated, she hadn't known how much she would feel.

“OK, you really need to get out of here,” she said. There was a combination of reluctance and amusement in her voice. “I have to talk to my other friend.”

Lucio eyed her with concern. He was reluctant to leave too. There was so much he wanted to know. There was so much wrong with what she did. What did she actually feel? Did she feel the same way? Could she even feel? He wanted to talk to her for hours.

She half-smiled. He was hesitating.

“Go! We'll talk, I always find you!” she said shooing her hands at him.

He remembered what she said during their fight and he suddenly embraced her. Again, they kissed desperately.

“You have to...” she whispered pulling away.

Lucio nodded. He picked up the audio gun and turned to leave, his head was swimming with contradictory emotions.

As he left the Alcazar he looked back at Sombra. She was watching him intently. She fanned her fingers “goodbye” with a sly smile. Lucio looked forward and tried to clear his mind. Whatever there was between them, it couldn't be worked out now. It felt like he was putting his entire life in suspension, he would be forced to wait...

He left the building to make his way through the chaotic city back to the hospital with Alejandra and Hana.

Reaper materialized behind Sombra.

“You're back...”

“I saw the whole thing,” he said ominously, “you do have a way with people...”

She turned towards him.

“You're just jealous, Gabe,” she said patting him on the chest.

“Right...” he said removing Sombra's hand as if it were used gum. “Talon elements were ordered to surrender to FLN forces on sight and disrupt the military.”

“Miguel's orders.”

“I don't want Talon assets going to waste, we've spent years building them up,” said Reaper, “you're going to explain to me how we are going to keep control of this country without the military and police.”

“You need to rethink your strategy, Gabe. You have such a blunt hand. There are other ways to control a country besides the police.”

“I'm listening...” he said impatiently.

“Hearts and minds, Gabriel. How do you think I got all these people here today?”

Reaper shook his head.

“You're like every programmer I've known.” Sombra's ears grated against the work 'programmer.' “You get involved in something and change it around so you're the only person who understands it.”

“It’s hacker and it’s _my country_ , Gabriel,” said Sombra, clearly irritated, “no more coups, no more military dictatorships, no more technocrats and deep state spooks. I'm running the show.”

Reaper ignored her.

“The FLN will break through the front lines in a couple of hours. Guerrillas are already entering the city. By this time tomorrow I want to know that Los Muertos and the FLN are under Talon control.”

Sombra chuckled.

“Its not going to work that way, Gabe.” Reaper's hands flared in annoyance. Sombra eyed him to see if she needed to defend herself. Her expression turned grave. “But I'll tell you how it is, in this building are a number of activists and 'intellectuals' planning a new government,” she said making air quotes around 'intellectuals.' “They don't know it yet but they will form a provisional government with Miguel as interim president. O-31 will break away from Los Muertos and form a O-31 Movement Party. They'll share a number of seats with the FLN and several other parties in an _ad hoc_ council. Are you listening?”

“Yes, then what?”

“I dunno, Reaper! We solidify Miguel's control by making him popular with the crowds. He'll form a cabinet and award himself the powers he needs to win the war. You know, demagoguery. You like that stuff.”

Reaper was silent for a moment as he digested the information.

“This could take months if not years...”

“I got quite a bit done in a week, don't you think?”

Reaper humphed and turned his back to her.

“You're back in control, for now. I want this bottled up.”

He dematerialized into an ominous black cloud and poured out of the Alcazar. Sombra stood by herself and looked up at the November moon. The sun was in Scorpio, her birthday was coming up.

There was a rustle.

“You're still here...” said Sombra.

Lucio emerged from a hedge bush.

“I walked all the way around,” he admitted.

Sombra turned to him and smiled.

“I'm glad,” she said softly, “I have something to show you.”

Lucio approached her and she took his hand.

“What is it?”

Her smile turned sly.

“Empress Carlotta's bedroom."

It felt like a blur, they ran together through the checkered halls and up grand flights of stairs until they arrived at the Empress's chambers.

“Not bad, huh?” said Sombra as she sat down on the ornate bed.

Lucio's eyes wandered through the grand room. _So this is what a revolution is like_ , he thought. Lucio's movement in Brazil had had no grand moment of storming the capital. Lucio destroyed a police station run by Vishkar Corporation in his neighborhood but he'd made sure it was empty. It was the most violent thing he'd ever done but he felt he had to do it. For the most part there were no barricades just thousands of people peacefully taking to the streets. The government had no choice but to resign.

Sombra had accomplished something else. Sure, it was a museum but they were in the bedroom of a Belgian princess. Something more fundamental had changed.

Sombra's eyes turned sultry. She beckoned him over to the bed.

He sat next to her quietly and she began to gently caress the palm of his hand. Lucio sat almost meditatively. Slowly she moved up his arm and neck until she was touching his cheeks. He remembered how dangerous her nails were, how they had carved his skin and nearly torn out his eye. Slowly, she sought his lips and they gently kissed. He looked into her eyes and the two again turned desperate. She began to kiss more passionately. He'd never seen her like this before. She'd only ever pretended. Was it real?

“I love you,” he whispered.

Sombra pulled away and blinked. A tear rolled down her eye.

“What is it?” he asked rubbing the tear away with his thumb. A little neon paint rubbed off on his finger.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry I blew you up,” she laugh-cried as more tears shook loose. Her breath was hot. She sniffed and started kissing him again. “Aw man, Lucio. I don't know, I didn't know how you felt...”

Lucio laughed.

“It makes it better right?” he said playfully, “but I know you'd still have done it even if I told you sooner.”

She nodded tearfully with a melancholic smile and laughed. It was the morbid truth, Sombra was a killer. Her snot had gotten on him. She wiped it away and held his face kissing him with deep wet kisses. They fell back on the bed and their kissing became more intense. Lucio felt like he was in a suspended fantasy, Sombra actually wanted him. What would come of this?


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucio spends a night with Sombra.

She pressed herself into him so she could show him the warmth in her pelvis. This was happening. When Sombra wanted to have sex she would have it immediately. Lucio felt something in his throat drop that told him this would progress naturally. The only question was how. A dart of anxiety struck him and his mind turned to Hana, she'd been in the back of his head all night but now he felt completely out of control. He’d always been in Sombra's orbit, circling back to her like a comet but here, now, they were colliding planets. She grabbed at his shirt. He helped her pull it over his head. The instant it was off, she sat up and frantically removed her shredded muscle shirt and bra. Sombra couldn’t get her clothes off fast enough in her desperation to feel her skin against his.

Naked, they held each other close like reunited lovers. Sombra affectionately took the back of his head and rubbed her neck against his like a courting giraffe. His coarse dreadlocks gently tickled her forearms. As they embraced he was thrown into a meditative state, almost like a trance, where he was attenuated perfectly to the intention of her breathing and touch.

They had never touched like this. Throughout all their sordid debauchery, Sombra had only ever fooled around with Lucio as if he was a toy. She’d always known he wanted her so her game was to get him to do things for her amusement. But now she finally wanted him. He felt it from the heat in her breast.

They fell to the side. Lucio pressed his face in her sternum to smell her and kiss her neon painted chest. As she held his head she felt his desire for her. It had been years. Years of her fucking with him, bizarre sexual encounters, favors, fights, years of a missed encounter. Now he felt so soft to her.

Quickly they became heated. She pushed his head into her breast bidding him to suck and bite her nipples. He bit and in a fit she took his hand, covering his fingers with her own, and placed it on her other breast to squeeze it. Her mouth fell agape as it bunched in his hand, she held it to his mouth and he sucked it. Her body undulated as she felt him suck her erect hypersensitive nipple. This was nothing in terms of the bizarre foreplay that Sombra usually preferred but somehow everything felt new—although, despite the heightened sensation, it still wasn't enough.

She stopped and gazed at him with longing eyes causing him to pause.

She wanted him.

“Sombra?” he said lifting his head.

“Lucio...”

“Whats up?”

“I'm thinking,” she replied softly as she searched his face. After a moment, she bent down and started to pull off her shoes, leggings and underwear. “Take off your shoes,” she commanded as she worked, “pants too.”

He took a breath and complied. As he undressed, Lucio realized he was just barely shaking. Soon, however, he was kneeling on the bed in his boxer briefs.

"It's the start of the month," she said almost frowning, "I just had my period."

Lucio felt like someone had poured cold water down his back at the prospect of what that meant. He watched Sombra intently as she sat naked in front of him cross legged and pulled down his underwear.

"Really, Sombra? You're obsessed with condoms."

Sombra paused with his underwear half-way down.

"Its hard to get an abortion in this country and if you can get one, you don't want one," she said frankly. "Still in the mood?" she asked cocking her head with a sneer, "it's now or never."

"Yes..."

"'Cause if you want to find one..."

Her tone was bullyish. She gauged him with amused and aroused eyes. She took his silence as a 'no.' Even now Sombra was still messing with him. She finished pulling his boxer briefs past his knees causing his semi-erect dick to brush against her shoulder and neck.

“Watch where you put that thing, huh?” she tried to say in her typical dismissive tone but her voice was wavering.

Sombra tossed his underwear in the corner of the ornate room and laid back spread eagle. She closed her eyes and gently rubbed her pierced clit. Lucio watched her as she lay back and focused. She seemed to be waiting for something in anticipation, although there was something unnatural about this...

Sombra opened her eyes.

“What are you waiting for?” she asked impatiently.

“Are you sure, Sombra?”

“No...” she said looking aside resentfully.

“Hey, Sombra, its me. We can take it easy.”

“I'm not used to feeling like this... maybe its because I'm sober,” she said as she reached for him, “I feel all weird.”

Sombra grabbed his arm to pull him down to her. He went with the motion, falling on top of her and draping his dreads over her naked body. They looked at each other in a moment of anticipation and he felt a jolt down his spine. It was her eyes. For the first time Sombra looked at him like a lover.

He took her with a sigh and she connected her soft familiar lips with his. As they kissed, Sombra raised her arms above her head, basking in him as if he were the sun.

Quickly, they became heated. Her saliva began to feel viscous as her kisses became indulgent and wet. With a heavy breath, Sombra arced her back and sucked on his tongue. He could tell from the way she was writhing her hips, looking to steal any stimulation from him for her clit, that she was already very turned on. Lucio wrapped his arm around the back of her head and positioned his fingers over her clit.

Sombra paused abruptly and grabbed his hand, giving him a serious expression, different from the usual little smile she held while they messed around. 

“It's gonna be funny, I'm not entirely used to men like this.”

“I've done it with you before...”

“I'm just saying!”

He started slow, delicately massaging her in tight circular motions. Under his finger, he felt Sombra's clit engorge. As he picked up momentum, Sombra shifted her pelvis and lightly gyrated it against his finger. He hadn't done this for her in a while but he was familiar with her body, it was only a matter of time... As her breathing became more aroused she pressed her hand against his chest and craned her neck. He could see her being overcome. Lucio increased the pressure on her and she inhaled sharply bringing her arm around his neck. Suddenly, she gasped as she took his hand and held it in place to protect herself from being overstimulated, clenching as a small orgasm hit her.

Finally, she let go and exhaled.

“I told you it was going to be funny.”

Lucio snickered.

“Its been a while but its hard to forget you're so easy.”

“Yeah, its why I'm a nympho...” she said wincing, “pleasure with no satisfaction.”

She looked down the brown and neon landscape of her flat belly and shifted, noticing her legs were intertwined with his. She felt the soft skin of his erect penis rubbing against her inner thigh. Subtly his penis would push towards her when she felt him tense. She felt a dab of precum on the meat of her thigh. He wanted her. It was strange, he looked and felt new to her, he was powerful somehow. Their dynamic had entirely changed. With a smirk, Sombra leaned up and grabbed his waist to position him in front of her.

He took the opportunity to look at her. Sombra's small patch of pubic hair was wiry and just slightly uneven. It looked like she shaved it now and again but she'd been living like a punk for the last week. Her vagina had an interesting shape, a large hood and small lips, the actual orifice was hard to see. He ran his finger up her with a “come hither” motion and she shuddered. She was quite wet.

“So uh, here's the thing,” she said placing her hand on his chest, “I have not been with a man like all the way for a very very long time.” Lucio looked at her in a way he hoped was understanding. “I don't know how to say this... I might start crying.”

“Sombra...”

“It doesn't mean your dick is magic and it doesn't mean you're hurting me,” she said with a grave expression. “Another thing: I might say 'no,' that doesn't mean 'stop.' I'll say 'stop' if I want you to stop. Get it?”

Lucio paused for a moment in thought before nodding 'OK.'

He positioned himself over her and exhaled. Her vagina was so small it looked like his dick was smooshed against her.

“Another thing: you better fucking pull out, _cabron_ , or I will actually murder you,” she said pushing on his chest.

“OK, God damn!”

“And another thing, this doesn't mean I'm straight.”

He blinked at her.

She cocked her head at him and sneered.

“What? Impatient? Am I going to make you lose it?”

“No.”

“Good...” she said lying down and snuggling her shoulders in.

This was it.

She’d delayed long enough. Both of them were sensitive to the point of quivering, tense from anticipation of what was about to happen. She drew his hips close to let him penetrate her. She moaned as he slowly entered but she felt incredibly tight, too tight. Lucio watched her stick her fingers in her mouth with sultry half-open eyes then rub her clit with a practiced motion to accommodate him and he was able to push deeper. Sombra's chest heaved from the sensation of being penetrated, showing off her ribs and flattening her tummy. She shifted while he held himself still to try to adapt to the sensation of being inside her. Again, he pushed in and watched her eyes go blank then squeeze shut from an ambiguous pleasure. Immediately he lost it. He had to pull out.

Lucio pulled away suddenly and discretely caught some of his ejaculate in his hand. He wiped it on the bed. It was barely an orgasm, almost painful. He searched for his shirt.

“What was that?” asked Sombra, opening her eyes.

“Uh, nothing...”

“You didn't just—?” she said lifting her neck and looking up at him with a half-amused expression.

“No,” he interrupted defensively.

She plopped her head back down to hide her amused smile. He wiped off the rest of the cum on his shirt and hoped she didn't notice. He paused for a second and gauged if he could keep his erection. The anxious thought crossed his mind that he'd just blown it. He exhaled nervously.

“I mean, its OK if you did...”

Lucio didn't respond. He was concentrating. He relaxed and brushed himself off. It was Sombra, they were cool, they'd done it so many times before—even if it wasn't all the way. When he was sure he was good to go he grabbed her legs and dragged her close.

“Oh!” said Sombra in surprise, “there we go!”

Sombra looked at him unassumingly as she gently masturbated to prepare herself for him. Again he felt what was happening was impossible. He simply had to not think about it.

Lucio shook his head and embraced her.

Again, she let him slowly penetrate her. This time it was much easier. Sombra held herself still as he pushed in, panting and shuddering as she felt blood rush to her chest and pelvis. She craned her neck and brought her arms above her head from the complicated sensation, she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to feel this much pleasure this way.

"Lucio..." she moaned as she pushed her hands against the headboard.

Lucio watched her expression glaze over from pleasure before she suddenly turned her neck away and rubbed her nose and lips on her bicep. It sent a small jolt of base excitement up his back. Sombra was getting lost in him, sighing and arching her back from the sensation of being taken. But as she closed her eyes she felt a strange blackness close. Something dark was chasing her. She tensed and began to take sharp breaths.

“No...” she muttered twisting her head to the side. She was straining as she squeezed her eyelids shut. “No, no, no...” she whimpered softly.

Lucio loosened his grip.

“Sombra, we don't have to...”

“No!” she shouted.

“No as in 'no, don't stop' or 'no' as in 'stop'?”

“God damnit, Lucio!” she burst out angrily, “just fuck me! I want to forget!”

“Don't close your eyes, look at me,” he said running his hand through her hair.

He gazed into her eyes and she was taken aback by how soft and caring they were. The anger and paranoia left as she began to feel safe, however, just as the feeling arrived a small pang hit her from the thought that she didn't deserve him and her eyes became a little tearful. As she continued to search his calm confident eyes, a happy thought started to brew that slowly banished the others: she was incredibly lucky. Lucio watched the contradictory feelings wash over her. Feeling self-conscious, Sombra gave an involuntary smile and craned her neck to meet his lips. They kissed gently.

He thrust in slowly causing her tense and grip his back as she rotated her pelvis away to fit him more comfortably. Lucio pushed in a little further but she jolted.

“I'm sorry, you feel big...” she said falling back and placing her palm on her forehead. She sounded a little embarrassed. “Go slow.”

Lucio smirked at her apparent inexperience. He was larger than average but he wasn't huge.

“What am I funny to you?” Sombra responded defensively.

“No, of course not...”

That’d been mean. A tear streamed down her face and neck. She was having a rough time.

It was funny though, he’d fantasized for years about having sex with Sombra, he never knew it would be like this. He’d seen her explicit many times but never intimate with anyone. She was a little more vulnerable than he was used to seeing. It was strange but he was overcome with the sensation that this felt right.

He rocked his pelvis into her as he thrust in to hit her deeper. He wanted to see her reaction.

She put her hand against his shoulder as she gazed at him intensely with her mouth agape. Her eyes bore a complicated expression: she looked all at once aroused, offended and enamored as she panted. It was as if she couldn't believe she was letting him fuck her.

They held that position for a moment. When he felt her stop pushing against his shoulder he continued to thrust into her slowly. She tensed at first but her eyes again turned blank as she blissed out. Suddenly, she swallowed and grabbed the back of his head forcefully, kissing him as if she were drinking him. Oh my God, he thought, this is really happening. It felt unreal.

Up until that moment she'd felt almost too tight. She’d been straining but something seemed to have just clicked and he felt it in her. Sombra's whole body relaxed and her tears subsided. He held her head and began to rock into her rhythmically. At first she breathed in sharply on each thrust pressing her forehead against his but soon her breathing became even and sensual.

Sombra didn't seem like a cold-blooded killer, a sociopath or a nymphomaniac, she was herself, she was sensual, although this was clearly complicated for her. She had wanted this for no other reason than to be with him.

They fucked slowly like that for a long while as they held each other. After some time, Sombra began to change the pace, gyrating her hips against him as he thrust so she could take him as deep as she could.

She stopped suddenly when she seemed to have gained her stride.

“What did I used to do to boys..?” she thought tapping her lip.

She sat up and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, straddling Lucio as he sat bow legged. Before she'd felt way too vulnerable, almost virginal, it was time to take control.

“Kind of like earlier today,” she noted.

“Yeah...” said Lucio apprehensively, he remembered how dangerous she was.

She leaned back slightly and began to grind her hips against him as she hung off his neck. He held her hips and pushed her pelvis against his, watching the skeletal design on her chest stretch and contract as her flat belly undulated. Now she was getting into it. Her brown skin glistened as sweat began to build on her chest and supple breasts. Her motions became more dynamic.

As her intensity increased, they gazed into each other's eyes. Sombra's face was a bit of a mess, her eyes were tired, her old makeup and neon face paint had been caked on for days and now had streaks from her tears but she looked beautiful to Lucio. He loved her imperfections. Sombra, meanwhile, had always been into Lucio. Her infatuation with him perhaps stemmed from his subtle femininity. But as she watched his muscles work he seemed more and more powerful, with his dreads down he looked like a lion to her.

Sombra stopped. Now she was into it, she wanted more of him.

“Hey,” said Lucio noticing her. His voice sounded cool and collected. Even this simple utterance sounded sexy to Sombra.

“Stupid neuro-chemicals,” she replied with a sigh, “I don't know what it is, I feel safe with you.”

Lucio's heart leaped, was that a confession? Did she love him back? She dismounted and turned getting on all fours to present her incredible ass to him.

“Come on, Lucio, fuck me like an empress,” she jeered curling her body to look up at him.

Lucio positioned himself behind her. He could see her engorged red pussy. She held his penis and slowly guided it into her, watching herself be penetrated from behind. Her eyelids fluttered as she took him.

“I still can't believe this is happening...” he said.

Sombra rolled her eyes as she gave him an arrogant smile.

“Yeah, a lot of people really go for me.”

He ran his hand down her back feeling her invisible hairs against his hand and she straightened out to receive him. His eyes drank in the details of her hard body: her curves, her back muscles, her Venus dimples, her shewn armpit hair, her round butt and athletic legs, her punky hair. The ugliness of her augmentations barely bothered him. She shifted forward and gripped the sheets as he thrust into her, closing her eyes and moaning as she felt him hit her deep.

Shutting her eyes, however, was a bad idea. Slowly, she began to check out as she fucked him. As the bad memories chased her, she brought herself back to the moment the only way she knew how. Sombra glared at Lucio over her shoulder.

“Come on, Lucio. I'm not your girlfriend. Fuck me,” she spat goading him on.

Something changed in Sombra, her voice was heated with anger and aggression, this was more the Sombra he knew. Lucio's mind inevitably jumped to Hana and he almost lost it but he was quickly brought back by her egging him on. He obliged her and she melted. Sombra became almost hysterical or nymphomaniacal.

“Shit, Lucio!" she moaned as if she was about to cry, "fuck me harder!”

Sombra was a hot wreck. Her voice modulated between sounding like she was on the verge of a breakdown and a heated argument. He worked into her with more force. He'd wanted to be with Sombra for years and was willing to eat the consequences for this. Lucio had always compartmentalized his adulterous thoughts and had never cheated on Hana but there was no way out of this one. But the wrongness of it all, he supposed, somehow made it better. And the way she was glaring at him, the aggressivity of it all... Sombra lifted her head and dipped her back to take him deeper as she gripped the sheets. She was starting to tear at them with her nails.

“Fuck! Come on Lucio, fuck me!” she shouted through her teeth, her voice wavered with intensity.

Suddenly, Sombra gasped as if in pain and pulled away to face him. She glared at him. They were both sweaty and panting, high off endorphins. Slowly, her eyes softened as whatever fleeting mood she was experiencing passed.

“You're good,” she said with a smirk, “but I can't get off like that.”

She pushed Lucio on his back and stood over him on her knees gazing down at him coolly. She grabbed his erect penis and gently massaged it as she held her conniving eyes on him. Lucio gave an involuntary smile, cockily anticipating that moment where he could watch Sombra melt with pleasure on his dick.

She caught it.

"Oh?" she said raising an eyebrow and grinning, "I bet you're having the time of your life right now..."

Several times Sombra leaned back and pushed her pelvis forward as she guided him towards her until he was almost penetrating her. Each time Lucio watched her bring him to the precipice expectantly waiting to feel her take him but she wouldn't. It was excruciating.

“Remember this?” she asked.

Lucio looked up at her, she was wearing a familiar perverse expression. Was she back to her old ways? Was she going to torture him? He was just thinking to himself how fun it was to fuck Sombra, how responsive and orgasmic she was, how he had never known her sexuality could be so passive and accommodating. Now she was eyeing him like a predator. She’d had so much fun being withholding to Lucio over the course of their bizarre friendship, why would she give it up now?

“Oh no, Sombra...”

She cocked her head and gave a fake little smile.

“What is it? Do I seem threatening to you?”

“Yes...”

She cackled at his response.

“Aw, pobrecito,” she said letting go of his penis and crawling on top of him like a spider, “how do you know I'm not going to kill you?”

She looked over to his pants lying not far from the bed. His eyes followed hers. The audio gun was clipped to his belt.

Sombra sighed.

“Its pretty far away...” she said resting her chin on her hand, her voice was piqued with intrigue, “but I'm lucky, all my weapons are on my body.” She ran her sharpened nail down the curve of his chin. “I could kill you right now...”

Lucio watched her eyes turn cold, the spark of hatred he saw earlier that day washed over her face.

“You're actually thinking about it!” he said sitting up in outrage.

She blinked.

“What?”

“You're actually thinking about killing me!”

Lucio’d caught it before she did. Maybe he wasn't so dumb. Sombra collapsed plopping her head down with her ear against his chest.

“I feel a lot...” she said caressing her hand over his smooth chest.

Lucio exhaled in exasperation and plopped himself down. _Of course_ , he thought. Did he really think he would just have Sombra? Even now it was still about power. A jolt of anxiety hit him from the further realization that not even Sombra knew what she was going to do. He felt her stop caressing him and turn her attention to his penis. He lifted his neck to meet her gaze.

“So what if I was?” she said sitting up and positioning herself over him, "want to chat about it?"

There’d been a hint of aggression in her voice. Her eyes fixed on his. He could tell she was calculating something, that she was curious what his response would be. Slowly, she pressed herself down. Lucio exhaled and instinctively grabbed her hips as he felt himself enter her. This was a pretty good way to avoid the conversation.

“No,” he said finally with a little strain.

“Good," she replied placing her hand on his chest.

He felt the points of her nails gently press against his skin. With a little more force and they would easily puncture.

Sombra rocked her hips, grinding against him. As she looked down at Lucio with her sleepless eyes the arrogant notion that he’d tamed a capricious wild animal vanished. Now she was in control. They started slow but picked up momentum.

She moved her body with his, subtly controlling the angle and depth of his penetration, always keeping her vicious eyes fixated on his. It was odd, Lucio got the sense they were still having some kind of fight. Soon, however, her eyes softened and she let him hit her deeper, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing herself against him. Lucio held her close as they gyrated their hips in time with each other.

It felt unfair to Lucio to make the comparison but Sombra was nothing like Hana. They’d come a long way and Lucio loved having sex with Hana but she would often become a bit of a pillow princess or be funny about making too much body contact and exerting herself during sex. There was only one time when Hana wanted it rough and Lucio was pretty sure it was because of Sombra. Sombra, however, when she got her stride, wanted to bang the soul out of him.

Sombra broke her gaze and subtly shifted her position, arching her back and adjusting her pelvis so he wasn't hitting her quite so deep. She began to moan as she ground against him, pressing her face against his neck. He held the back of her shaved head, feeling the short fuzzy hairs on his hand as she vigorously worked her hips on his dick.

At first she kissed and bit him but soon all he could feel was Sombra's intensifying hot wet breath on his neck. Her grip tightened. He felt the sting of her surgically sharpened nails puncturing the skin on his back, it sharpened as Sombra got lost in her pleasure. All the signs were there, she was close. Her arm, back and butt muscles strained beautifully as she approached her orgasm. Lucio glimpsed them as he looked over her sweaty neck, holding her tightly as she worked her pelvis into him. Suddenly, she shuddered and gasped. This was it. She pressed her pelvis hard against his and clenched letting out a deep moan as she was hit by the first wave of her orgasm. She jolted and scratched suddenly as she was hit by another wave.

They stayed like that for a moment before she relaxed and let go.

“Sombra, you shredded me...” said Lucio as she lifted herself off of him.

It was odd, he'd seen her fuck Hana that way. Sombra's face was flushed. She was glowing from pleasure.

“Heh,” she replied.

“What you're not going to call me 'pobrecito'?”

“I need a cigarette first,” she said running her hand through her pink mohawk.

She dismounted Lucio and went looking for her pants. Lucio sat up with his elbows on his knees and watched her naked body as she crouched and rummaged through her cut-offs for a cigarette and lighter. She was a beautiful wreck, a dirty sweating punk. When she found them she put the cigarette in her mouth and sauntered over to the bed sitting cross-legged in front of Lucio. She looked up at him as she lit her cigarette.

“Pretty surreal, huh?” she said with the cigarette between her lips.

“Yeah, a few days ago I thought none of this was possible.”

The cigarette was lit. She tossed the lighter at her pants and took a drag.

“Which?”

Lucio's eyes panned the empress's room.

“That's a good question...” he said.

Sombra squinted as she gave a cocky half-smile.

“OK, cabron-”

“Its you, Sombra,” he interrupted, “I can't believe you feel the same way.”

Immediately, he regretted it. Sombra hated being interrupted. She gave him a testy look.

“Who says I feel the same way?” she said resting her cheek on her knuckles.

Lucio regarded her with confused eyes at first and she gave an amused little chuckle. But he knew Sombra, she got terse and selfish after she had sex. He just had to play it cool and keep the intensity high.

“Whatever you say,” he replied taking the cigarette from her hand.

“What? You don't even smoke, cabron,” she said in annoyance.

“Yeah. I do.”

Lucio took a drag and his lungs were immediately pierced by the harsh tobacco. He sputtered, choked and gagged.

“What the fuck, Sombra?” he said between coughs, “how can you smoke that?”

“Serves you right, _pendejo_ ,” said Sombra taking the cigarette back with a smirk, “they're Delicados, only real men can smoke them.”

She took a drag and blew smoke in Lucio's face. Lucio waved it away and pulled her close to kiss. He knew that Sombra liked to go multiple times. She put out the butt on empress Carlotta's nightstand as they made out. He pushed her forward as they kissed and delicately rubbed her pussy to feel how wet she was. She was still very aroused.

Lucio looked down at his dick, he was getting hard again but it was covered in a white film, small white chunks of something had formed on his pubic hair. Sombra noticed.

“Hey, I must really like you,” she said.

Lucio gave her a cocky expression and she pushed his face away.

“Get out of here!” she teased playfully.

He moved back in to kiss her and soon they were once again making out passionately. In a few moments she was looking at him longingly and pulling his dick towards her. Lucio shifted her so her shoulders were resting against the bed's ornate headboard. She looked at him in anticipation as he positioned himself to penetrate her. She held his arms and exhaled as he slowly entered. The tobacco smell on her breath hit his nose. It was, in actuality, quite bad, but their kissing seemed to neutralize it and he ultimately didn't care. To Lucio, it was just another detail for him to become enamored with.

They pressed their foreheads together and kissed intimately as Lucio stimulated Sombra's pierced clit with the pad of his thumb. He found she was very responsive, moaning and gyrating her hips on his dick as she held the back of his head with one hand and gripped the sheets with the other. Lucio felt her nails on his skull.

“Be gentle, OK?” he said.

Sombra nodded red-faced but didn't let up, she was too in the moment. Her breathing became intense as he slowly brought her to the edge.

"Just fuck me," Sombra insisted desperately, pulling Lucio's hand off of her clit.

He stopped bothering with his hand and soon Sombra was arching her back and moaning as her orgasm started to hit. Lucio still wasn't close but had been brought much further watching her cum. He couldn't resist, he started fucking her hard. Sombra looked at him wide-eyed as her shoulders bumped against the headboard. He was hitting her much deeper.

“Lucio!”

Now Lucio was breathing heavily. He tried to keep his concentration as he continued to work into her. He was almost at the point of no return. He would have to time this perfectly. He thrust in deep and she twisted and moaned as he drew out her orgasm. It was too much, the thought of Sombra cumming sent him over the edge, there was no way he could stop himself now. He felt his orgasm hit and he went as deep as he could. As big as he felt before he felt much bigger to Sombra as he came. She reflexively threw her arms around his shoulders. Was she insane? The thought occurred to him of how badly he just wanted to just cum inside her, how she seemed to want it too. Lucio desperately pulled out as he ejaculated having to almost force Sombra off. It was just in time. She shuddered and curled her fingers as his loopy strands of cum hit her body.

They held their positions panting for a moment before Sombra finally spoke.

“Wow, cutting it a little close there,” she said with a somewhat amused expression. She shifted up and touched the cum on her flat tummy with her index finger making lazy circular motions as Lucio watched. “I feel pretty fucked,” she said.

It was six years of sexual tension.

Lucio's head was swimming with pleasure chemicals, he couldn't think of anything to say so he just smirked. He collapsed next to her as she took one of the empress's pillows and wiped Lucio's cum off on it. She was unaccustomed to sex being this messy, it was a somewhat surprising experience for her.

“ _Mierda_ , where did I put that lighter?”

“Photographic memory and you can't remember you tossed your lighter with your pants?” said Lucio face down.

“Its only what I decide to load into my computer, pendejo,” she said walking over to her pants, “plus that shit takes up space.”

She lit her cigarette as she walked back to the bed. She placed her lighter on the nightstand and lay back. Lucio sat up to hold her in his arms. A dark thought hit him.

“So you're not saving this?”

Sombra looked up at him.

“No, I'll remember this my own way,” she said caressing his face, "this is special."

Lucio's head swam. It was like Sombra was an actual empathetic loving person. He knew rationally she was a malignant narcissist although she seemed to care about him. He felt her meglomania worming its way into his head. He wanted to marry her and kill everyone else on the planet to replace them with a race of their beautiful powerful brown skinned children. Except he knew that Sombra would eat them.

“I guess that also means you can't use it as blackmail...” he said with a hint of melancholy. Sombra’s memory was garbage.

She laughed condescendingly and shook her head. Lucio watched as she took a drag of her cigarette and exhaled. “I think you've fucked yourself enough on this one, _cabron._ ”

She meant Hana. He shook the guilty thoughts away. He would deal with that when the time came. They held each other post-coitus, drinking in the moment as she smoked. It almost felt like a glimpse at another reality where they might be together.

Sombra finished her cigarette and they started to kiss. After a while, Sombra began to play with Lucio's flaccid penis. Slowly, it grew in her hand.

“These things are funny,” she said, “I never thought I could be with a guy like this again.” Sombra eyed it curiously as she thought to herself. “I still don't think I like it but I want to with you.”

"Why is that?"

Sombra thought to herself for a moment. Should she tell him everything that had happened to her? It would be a long tortured ordeal—deeply upsetting to her.

"Your's is the funniest," she said flatly.

"OK, Sombra," he replied rolling his eyes.

It would have to remain a secret.

She turned herself away and wrapped his arm around herself. Lucio felt her hardware hum against his chest. It was a curious device. He was briefly reminded that Sombra was a living EMP bomb. Sombra felt his eyes on her back and she wiggled her butt against his dick to bring his attention back to her. Soon she could feel him getting hard.

He rubbed his dick against the groove of her butt as she played with herself. Her moaning was starting to get him in the mood again. When she felt him become hard enough to penetrate her she grabbed his penis from behind and shifted her hips to guide him in. She gave a relaxed sigh and grinned involuntarily as she pushed her butt against him. It was strange, this time it almost felt like someone had poured cold water down his back as he pushed into her. He’d already came so he wasn't sure how long he could do this for but he knew Sombra's sexual appetite was immense, she would fuck until he was worn out.

They gyrated into each other in a slow sensual rhythm. She’d taken him before he was fully erect so she felt him slowly growing inside her. Sombra's breathing became more and more aroused the harder he got until he was hitting her as deep as he could. She angled her pelvis so Lucio felt the tip of his dick pushing against something on each thrust.

Lucio knew the rhythm of Sombra's orgasms. He could feel her already coming close as her breathing intensified and she worked her hips against him. He was getting in sync with her. A little desensitized from before, she masturbated herself forcefully as he fucked her.

Suddenly, her body bucked and she stopped pleasuring herself but then immediately started again with more intensity, arching her back and squeezing her eyes shut. Her orgasm was starting to hit.

Lucio was right with her, he moved her so she was lying on her front. She hadn't expected him to be so domineering so she gasped as she went with the motion. He ground into her from behind as he gently held her chin and kissed her. She could feel him on the verge as his dick further engorged to fill her and hit her spot. On each thrust she desperately pushed against him letting out a little moan each time as she rode out the intensity of her orgasm. Finally, he let go of her, exhaling sharply as he pulled out and shot several small loads of cum on her back. She shuddered as she felt the hot liquid hit her body.

Lucio held himself up over Sombra. He looked at his penis as she lay there with a self-satisfied smile. It was stupid but it seemed huge to him. Maybe a result of his inflated ego from being with Sombra. He had always been anxious about the size of his penis but there was something about Sombra and the way she worked him that made him feel almost heroically confident. It was like he was on a power trip with her. Somehow the knowledge that she only cared about her own pleasure was a real turn on. The sex he was having with Sombra was way better than anything he'd done with Hana. It was like she was more in tune with her body, certainly she had way more practice with sex.

“Oh man, Lucio...” she said feigning exasperation as she rolled on her back. “You love me, you love me. It blows my mind. What's that like? Is it hard?” she sneered as she sat up crossing her legs. She went for another cigarette on the night stand. “Are you sure you just didn't want to fuck me?” she said with the cigarette between her lips. She lit it then dragged and exhaled. “I mean, what are you going to do after this? You know nothing will keep us together.”

“I don't know, if I just wanted to fuck you I wouldn't be so mad at you.”

She humphed at the comment with amusement.

“Sounds complicated,” she replied with a singsong voice.

His head was swimming with dopamine and oxytocin, it was hard to think. Lucio looked off to the side. The sun was just starting to come up.

“Yeah...”

Sombra smoked in silence for a moment before speaking. “So, lets have a really complex conversation,” she said somewhat viciously. Her augmented mind was unfazed by the rush of chemicals to her brain but Sombra could tell Lucio was a little scrambled. “What are you going to tell Hana?”

“I have no idea... I'll have to call everything off, I couldn't live with myself if I lied to her,” said Lucio, “I do love her, you know”

Sombra raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, right,” she said taking a drag and exhaling, “I know you're a shit liar and you have that conscience of yours so you'll probably tell her what happened. But this is whats going to happen...” She took another quick drag and her expression turned grave. “About the blackmailing, I lied. If you tell her what happened between us I'll ruin your life, I'll destroy your career and sink your reputation, I will make it impossible for you to make more than a slave wage. _Comprende_?”

“Sombra... what the hell?”

“You know I can do it,” she said harshly. The smoke from her cigarette curled up into the high ceilings of the regal chamber. Lucio looked into the mirror on the empress's dresser cabinet and saw his reflection. Sombra sat ominously behind him obscured in smoke. All this had been very wrong. “I want you and Hana to stay together,” she asserted.

“So what do I say?”

“You can tell her everything except for the obvious, use your head.”

Sombra moved closer to him and turned his head to inspect his eyes.

“Come on,” she said lightly slapping his face, “its not so hard.”

Lucio sighed and hung his head. His dreadlocks flopped against the sheets.

“What choice do I have?”

“'atta boy,” she jeered. “See? I'm not so bad, I'm not going to let you ruin your life over me,” she said patting him on the back. Lucio received it resentfully. “Aw, come on, we were having such a good time.”

Lucio looked up at her and half-smiled melancholically. Sombra had deconstructed him, he could no longer think of himself as a good person. Everything after this would be a mad scramble to apologize for what he had done tonight. Although, the question remained, had he seduced her or did she seduce him?

“I don't know what else I expected, its always been like this...” he said.

"Just try not to think about it."

That wouldn't be hard. At least for now. She wrapped her arms around him and brought him back down onto the bed. They lay there silently for a moment as Sombra finished her cigarette. She ashed it on the empress's night stand then turned to Lucio to kiss him.

“I'm greedy,” she whispered to him as she embraced him.

Her hand crept down her leg as they kissed and she slowly began to stimulate herself. Lucio's eyes had been closed. They shot open when he heard Sombra take a sharp breath.

“Sombra, no! I have to go to the bathroom at least...” he said pulling away.

Sombra threw down her hand in minor frustration.

“Fine, pendejo.”

He got up and walked nakedly to the empress's bathroom. He regarded the ornate floral tiles and the marble bathtub as he peed. He could hear Sombra masturbating behind him. She was unbelievable. He decided he would let her have her fun as he walked through the 18th Century bathroom. There was so much he wanted to ask her, he wanted to know if she loved him. Her reactions were all over the map. Some impulse told him that this would have never happened if she didn't somehow feel the same way. There was no reason to ask.

He stepped back into the room. Sombra lay on the bed looking at him expectantly.

“You missed the show,” she said.

“I seen it,” he said jokingly as he sat next to her.

“You think you're a pretty funny motherfucker, eh?” she said hitting him upside the head. She went for another cigarette to continue her chain-smoking spree as Lucio rubbed the back of his head. As she lit her cigarette she looked at him with an intrigued expression. Would he do anything to retaliate? He thought about grabbing her hair and telling her how fucked up she was, how she always acted like a brat and manipulated him but it was a fleeting thought. The answer seemed to be 'no,' Sombra got away with everything. She lowered her eyes and paused as she took a drag and exhaled.

"My names not 'eh,' _safada_ ," Lucio said finally.

" _Safada_ , whats that mean?" Sombra asked, pretending not to seem too interested as she smoked.

Lucio zipped his lips, he knew she loved when he spoke Portuguese.

"Not until you stop calling me _cabron_ ," he said.

"What, salty? Did you look it up?" she said then dragged, "my mother was from Columbia and I grew up on the streets of Mexico. I'm untranslatable."

"So that's why no one understood what I was saying with that Spanish you taught me. I've been trying to unlearn it ever since."

Sombra scowled.

"Woulda helped you on the stage the other night. I'm still pissed you stopped learning," she actually sounded halfway angry, "whatever, just say anything in Portuguese and I'll forgive you."

Lucio put his raunchy Portuguese performance voice on, _"Vou meter em você ate você gritar meu nome._ "

Sombra blinked at Lucio and could not believe how turned on she was. Lucio put on a dastardly smile.

“Oh, Lucio...” she said wistfully as she sat in his lap and rubbed her back into him.

A whimsical thought hit her. She liked this cigarette and she liked Lucio, she should have them at the same time. Sombra held her cigarette out with one hand as she reached behind her wrapping her arm around Lucio's neck. She kissed him between intermittent drags of her cigarette. Soon her cigarette was finished. She turned away and smushed it out on the now butt laden nightstand then put her attention into Lucio. Once again they were making out passionately. After some time she took his semi-erect penis in her hand and began to massage it. It felt somehow both overly sensitive and desensitized to her touch.

“Nooo, Sombra,” he chuckled nervously.

She smiled as she kissed him.

“Heh, I wore you out,” she said in a sardonic singsong.

She really had. He had wanted her and now he had her, for better or for worse.

Sombra pushed him on his back.

“I don't know if its going to work, Sombra...” said Lucio nervously.

“You mean your dick? I'm pretty sure I can get it to work,” she said with a smug look, “just relax.”

Sombra was a nympho alright.

“Come on, I'm still so horny,” she said resting her head on his thigh, “ _quiero que me metes ese pene donde quepa_.”

Lucio looked across his body at her. She looked back at him with her piqued eyes from between his legs as she lifted her butt. Seeing her curvaceous back and butt, Lucio felt she was making a compelling argument. Her body was utterly beautiful, she mistreated it to no end but some genetic resilience pushed back and kept her muscles taut and gave her skin a healthy glow. It was hard to believe she was older than Lucio. The only exception were her sleepless eyes.

She took his lack of resistance as a sign to go ahead and delicately took his flaccid penis in her clawed hand. He swallowed as he watched her work. Soon he was having no problem. She gently held his dick as she began to gently lick his shaft up to his glans. He shuddered as he felt himself become sensitized. She shifted her position with a sigh so she was resting closer to him on her elbows. Now he could see her supple breasts. She brought them forward so they were lightly touching his balls then paused. She eyed his dick curiously, playing with it as she thought of what she was going to do to him.

Lucio knew Sombra had been with a lot a lot of men before she came out and was very experienced. Although she had always been fickle about penetrative sex, Sombra prided herself on her love and ability of giving excellent head. She seemed to intentionally delay her every movement, doing everything slowly and deliberately, making him crave her touch.

Finally, he felt her wet mouth on the tip of his penis. Lucio realized he was lucky he was desensitized from before since that would have easily sent him over the edge. Slowly, she pushed down as she sucked, gripping the base of his penis and massaging it upward. Lucio exhaled slowly as she moved back up his shaft and took the back of her head in his hand. Sombra lifted her head to meet his eyes and gave him a coy expression.

“You're big but its a good thing you are not so big,” she said lightly pumping his wet penis.

He let go of her and plopped his head down. “Oh my God, Sombra. Don't tell me that shit...”

“What, can't take a complement? Gonna lose it?”

Brazilian men were so anxious about their dicks.

She wrapped her lips around his head and slowly took him. Lucio's dick was now rock hard as she sucked. This time she went all the way down and deep throated him. He exhaled as he concentrated on not cumming and again felt lucky they’d already fucked or the encounter would have been short. As she pulled away a long strand of pre-cum connected to the tip of his penis stretched out from the back of her throat.

Sombra looked at him with a half-smile letting the strand dangle from her lip. “I think you're good,” she said as she let go and positioned herself on his dick.

The hair on Lucio's neck again stood up as she inserted him and the cold trickling feeling went down his back. He was fucking Sombra, he _still_ couldn't believe it.

Sombra rode him hard and fast. The “wow” factor of Lucio confessing his love for Sombra had somewhat worn off for her and she was now using him to satisfy a sexual itch. He ran his hands up her chest and tummy and leaned up to kiss her but she bossily pushed him back down. Instead, he held her hips and watched her undulating belly as she worked with increasing intensity to grind out her orgasm. Both of them were fairly desensitized so their motions became increasingly forceful until they were almost violent. Sweat flew and the 18th century antique bed rocked as they fucked displacing it a few inches from the position it had been preserved in since 1863.

“Don't you dare come first,” threatened Sombra.

Her panting intensified.

Suddenly, she fell forward and pushed her pubic bone against his. Lucio now recognized that this was her way of getting more stimulation at his expense. She gyrated her sweaty body as she held Lucio's head in her arms kissing him with hard tonguey kisses. She seemed frustrated.

“Come on,” she muttered. “Fuck me. Fuck me, you piece of shit. Fuck me,” she repeated through clenched teeth, "Can't you go harder than that?"

Her muttering turned into what Lucio assumed was very obscene Spanish. From what he could understand she seemed to be mentioning Hana. Suddenly, with a big gasp, she clenched as her orgasm finally hit and she had a final go at his back. She held Lucio hard and let out a long frustrated moan. Lucio had been working on his own but the discomfort from Sombra's peculiar way of getting clitoral stimulation threw him off. Finally, she let go as if she were done with him and threw herself down on the bed. She lay next to him as Lucio investigated the damage.

“Damn, Sombra. You shredded me again, what am I going to tell Hana?”

“We fought,” she said tersely.

Like clockwork she went for her cigarettes.

“You know, you're a pretty good fuck, Lucio,” she said before lighting the butt, “its almost too bad for you since I guess I'm back into guys.”

“What?”

“Proud of yourself?” she asked in an aggressive tone, “you fucked me straight.”

Lucio couldn't tell what was going on with Sombra. He balked.

“I uhh...”

She scoffed at his response.

“Well, we'll see, I've done more men than women on this job anyways,” she said looking through her cigarette smoke with a glazed expression.

He felt a pang of depression from the thought of Sombra's sheer number of sexual partners. Sombra was impossible, Lucio threw his head down in exasperation. He was thinking he wanted Sombra to get him off but that was now a distant fantasy. Her mood had collapsed. Now he just wanted to get her to treat him like a human being.

“Are you staying? I want to sleep alone, I haven't slept alone in long time,” she said impatiently.

“What the fuck, Sombra? I know you, I'm not some hookup for you to toss away.”

She took a quick and forced drag of her cigarette before speaking.

“Don't you have to go back to Hana?” she asked argumentatively, “she's waiting for you.”

“Whats going on with you? Talk to me for once.”

“You want to give me a break? I've felt more vulnerable than I have in a long time, Lucio,” she said, “I've cried so much in the last few days. I haven't cried in years. What else is there? Oh yeah, you beat me and told me you loved me. I'm a little scrambled.”

Lucio was silent. It wasn't like that, he was fighting for his life.

“I can help, you can talk with me,” he said finally, “you said you felt safe with me, what changed?”

“Don't bother yourself,” she said icily. “Besides, don't you have the sense you've been here too long? That you're lingering?”

The sun coming up was an unpleasant reminder. Lucio looked off towards the mirror on the dresser cabinet and caught his reflection. She was right.

He was about to speak when she interrupted him. “Fine, whatever,” she said lying down and getting under the covers, “stay if you want but I need to sleep.”

Lucio frowned and lay down next to her to hold her. _How could such an evil person feel so soft?_ he thought. As he lay with her he periodically looked over to see if she was asleep. Each time she shifted and squeezed her eyes shut. Soon he got the distinct sense that she didn't want to be held and that he was being a nuisance. Every minute was a minute that Hana would be worrying about him. The city was in the middle of a war, she was probably wondering if he was dead. It wasn't right to do to her. After some time it all became unbearable, he wouldn't get what he wanted out of Sombra and he was damaging Hana. He got up and collected his things then stepped into the bathroom to try and wash himself up.

What he had done was suicide. There was no way Hana wouldn't find out. He smelled so strongly of Sombra and had unmistakable cicatrix from her nails all over his neck, forearms and back. Hana would know what happened, the same had happened to her. He regarded himself in the empress's bathroom mirror and sighed before taking his leave.

He made his way through the elegant palace.

The militant Los Muertos and O-31 protesters had thinned out and the would-be intellectuals of the movement remained. As he passed the rooms he witnessed strange tableau's: radical lawyers and professors were arguing with workers and activists over the principles of civil society. Feminists were in shouting matches with Marxists about the gendered wording of their proposals. An overly enthusiastic student fumbled through a paraphrased Trotsky quote surrounded by confused looking homeless people and squatters. Communists and an anarchists debated the significance of the collapse of the Soviet Union and the relevance it had to their new government, a number of them staged a walk-out in protest. A group of indigenous women insisted that the revolution be postponed until more native people could be represented. He spotted Miguel behind a baroque desk grasping his head in confusion about the proposals being sent to his desk as FLN soldiers napped in their chairs. Apolitical Los Muertos milled about the castle taking anything of value. Lucio wasn't the only one who found some kind of love. He saw two lesbians dressed in battered leather jackets with transgender and queer rights patches kissing in the elegant reception room.

The Left was in power, it seemed.

Finally, he exited the fantastic castle and re-entered the battle-torn real world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm forever editing this to try and get rid of clunky language. I don't know why I made it so massive when I find sex scenes incredibly hard to write. Whatevs. Hope its good.


	20. Chapter 20

_New Overwatch headquarters, Watchpoint Gibraltar_

Jack had reported in almost a week ago from Mexico ranting and raving about Los Muertos in a blind rage. He had been moving around central Mexico in the guise of his alias, Soldier 76 presumably acting as a vigilante. Jack's authority was not questioned on the matter until Dr. Angela Ziegler had to be flown in to Mexico to surgically remove pieces of broken glass from his anus after a botched raid on a Los Muertos hideout. The difficulty of the procedure was exacerbated by the fact that Jack and Dr. Ziegler hated each other ever since her UN testimony against Overwatch on the weaponization of biotic technology. An emergency signal went out for the agents to convene and they were given several days to brief themselves on the Portero leaks, presumably to mull over the hundreds of leaked Portero emails extracted from Jack's visor. In the meantime Mexico had blown up into full on civil war.

Dr. Ziegler checked the time on a slick Swiss watch, there was a long convoluted story behind how it came into her family's possession involving Nazis but she tried to keep it out of her head and remind herself that it had never failed to accurately tell the time in over 100 years. It was 15 minutes to the meeting. She closed the lid on her laptop silencing an Intercept podcast interviewing Daniel Assange on the Portero leaks and stepped out of her dormitory. 

She shook her head as she processed the news, Mexico was an utter mess. She would be heading back soon to help with the aid effort.

Angela walked briskly to the meeting room to catch Jack. She cleared her throat and prepared to formally complain in the professional manner she had acquired throughout the course of her brilliant career.

"I would like to protest, Commander Morrison," she said in her crisp German accent, "not only is this meeting in violation of international law it is taking valuable time away from some of our professional lives"

"That's a funny thing, Angela," said Jack, "while you have your career saving lives some of us are putting our asses on the line so you never have to do that in the first place"

"I have no idea what you are talking about," she fussed, "and that's Doctor Ziegler to you, commander. Not that I think you are entitled to your rank after what happened"

Jack tightened his lips and shook his head in contempt. Tracer walked in. A bullyish idea popped into Jack's grumpy head.

"Tracer, you got a career you're putting on hold for this?" he asked.

"No sir," she said lively, "this is my job"

"'atta girl, airman," he said out of the corner of his mouth keeping his eyes on Angela.

"Uh, that's flight lieutenant to you, Jack!" Tracer awkwardly replied as she took her seat.

Angela gave Jack a rank stink eye. He grinned and stuck his chin up at her. It was too late, his bit had started and she couldn't stop him. Tracer eyeballed the two of them and assumed that whatever argument they were in was beyond her, she just hoped it would end quickly.

Winston strolled in. Jack nodded his way to address him, "hey Winston, you got a career you're putting on hold for this?"

"I'm afraid the job opportunities for a 9ft tall talking gorilla are quite limited"

"Sorry to hear that big guy. You've always got us." Jack chuckled darkly as Winston made his way to his seat. "Its damn racist," he spoke under his breath to Angela, pretending to be candid, "they think he'll throw a temper tantrum take over the Earth like his _hombres_ did with the moon"

"Hey! I heard that," protested Winston. "Though its not like I couldn't..." he muttered to himself.

"You're making a fool of yourself, Jack," Angela said, slapping her hands against her sides.

Jack caught Reinhardt out of the corner of his eye and stepped towards him. "Hey Rein, what do you do for money these days?" he asked.

"Uhh, a little of this and that," he said scratching the back of his head in embarrassment, "I'm a mover... personal trainer... I won a lifting tournament for my age bracket in my hometown last year"

"Sure thing, big guy. Glad you could make it," Jack turned to Torbjorn as he hobbled into the briefing room. "Torb, hows the job search? Or are you still building outdoor saunas after the explosion?"

"Right, a-fuck you, Jack," cursed Torbjorn in his bizarre Swedish accent.

Angela rolled her eyes as Jack stepped towards her with a smug grin. He'd spotted Ana approach so he waited for her to pass behind him before speaking. There was bad blood between Angela and Ana over her biotic rifle, if she joined the argument it would not go in her favor. Angela pretended to fix her prim blonde hair to avoid making eye contact as she stepped by.

"Let me remind you, doctor," Jack said wiping his nose with his finger, "we're all a bunch of nobodies and this hero business is our only gig and, oh yeah, that these meetings are voluntary"

"I'll keep that in mind next time I have to remove Mexican beer bottles from your rectum," she retorted before marching off to her seat.

Jack nodded and frowned as if to say 'touche.' He could tell when he was had.

Most everyone from the new and old Overwatch had arrived. They sat around the briefing table murmuring to each other over the events unfolding in Mexico and the leaks. Tracer pounded a cup of black coffee as she attempted last minute to skim the vast email database. Pharah made sure to sit next to Angela so she could peer at her notes, she'd spent the last few days working out instead of going over the emails and, well, figured she would go with her gut. Winston was busy coordinating with Athena and loading presentation holograms. The group chattered and gossiped as they made last minute preparations.

"Team, shut up." The room quieted. "We have to discuss the situation in Mexico. There's actionable intel that Talon is working with Los Muertos to topple the government. We have to stop them"

"What are we waiting for? Let's do it already!" said Tracer.

"It's not that simple," Winston replied, "have you all read the leaks?"

Ana shook her head, 'no.' Tracer looked down and shook her head. The various members of the New Overwatch all shuffled uncomfortably. Only Angela had read the leaks.

"Winston, what's the likelihood the leak is a fake?" asked Jack.

Winston pushed up his glasses and cleared his throat. "There is no reason to doubt their authenticity but, of course, I'm not an investigative journalist"

Tracer scoffed.

"So what if they are true? We're just going to stand by and let Talon have their way?" she said.

"I've read the emails. It's not that simple, if we stop them we'd be siding with a dictator," said Angela, her voice was still contentious from her argument with Jack.

"It's not like Overwatch has never sided with dictators before. It doesn't matter, we always fight the terrorists," Ana retorted, "you don't always have the luxury of choosing sides in a war"

"Mother, this isn't the Omnic crisis. There is no threat to humanity here. Must we compromise on our morals?" argued Pharah.

"Speak for yourself, who knows how this plays into Talon's designs?" said Jack brusquely.

Winston's hair bristled.

"Portero has been using his power to enrich himself and his corporation illegally. There is evidence that he's used his intelligence services with training and support from the CIA to assassinate reporters and activists, especially indigenous women. There are also emails linking him to Talon-"

"Sorry, I'm with Jack on this one," interrupted Ana. She didn't want to hear it, this type of stuff was par the course for the deep state. As an Overwatch sniper, it was not her place to question the sensibility of the US assassinating activists. "Never forget Talon's capability to manipulate the facts. Talon are never to be trusted. Its even worse that they are working with Los Muertos"

Angela took offense.

"We don't have the right to intervene when it comes to politics. We can't defend an authoritarian state!" she said getting impassioned, “Los Muertos is a gang but O-31 is a progressive social movement, we don't know how closely they are connected. We don't know what we are getting into if we interfere”

Pharah looked at Angela in dismay. Arguing with her mother? She had no idea that Angela could be like this.

“Los Muertos are just opportunists and predators, they'll fashion themselves however they have to to get support,” Jack warned.

“They are protesting corruption and economic injustice, Jack,” Angela insisted.

“They sound like socialists to me”

“So what if they are?” she retorted keeping her cool.

Jack scoffed and they glowered at each other bitterly.

“Damn Europeans and your nanny states...” he muttered. Reinhardt and Tjorborn shifted, Jack had always been a little conservative. “So what? That makes it OK? There were no warning bells for you when you learned they were supported by Talon?”

Tracer rubbed her head as Jack and Angela argued, Talon was supporting the current government and the rebels? Where was the bad guy? Some queer working class sensibility told her that a government that assassinates women had to go.

"Ugh, I don't like it!" complained Tracer, "I don't want to support an evil government. But what about the source? What is this Sombra collective? Who are they working for anyways, huh?"

"They are remarkably sophisticated," noted Winston, "that would be indicative that they might be state actors but it's unknown. They claim to work on behalf of Los Muertos and O-31 but they use the two almost interchangeably." Winston paused for a moment and tapped on the briefing table's control panel. A holographic display showing a picture of Sombra holding Lucio's audio gun and addressing the crowd of O-31 protesters outside of Chapultepec castle appeared. “However, this woman called herself 'Sombra' the other day. It was taken with an iPhone and posted to social media a few hours ago”

It was her. Even with the Los Muertos markings and dyed hair it was clear to him it was her. Now he knew who the enemy was...

“She's the Talon agent working with Los Muertos!” shouted Jack.

“I ran an analysis on the authorship of the Sombra Collective's addresses and it is highly varied,” replied Winston, “I also ran her face through Athena's facial recognition software and there is no record of anyone like her, although the neon paint is very effective at scrambling the recognition algorithm”

“I witnessed her with my own eyes,” Jack insisted.

Winston rubbed his forehead, he was trying not to get frustrated.

“I'm sorry Jack, we couldn't retrieve the data from your visor. All we could get were the emails,” he said.

“Because she hacked it, Winston. She's the hacker, those emails were a message to us”

“She may well be a Talon agent and she may well be the hacker but that only complicates the picture”

“You're screwing the pooch Winston, this isn't the time for scientific skepticism,” threatened Jack.

“Nor speculation,” asserted Winston, “recall that we already know Talon is involved, what we don't know is if its right to intervene”

Jack grumbled. Semantics. Contrarianism. Winston was disrupting him at every turn. Where was the solidarity? Jack made up his mind that he was going in whether Overwatch liked it or not. He would have to be more careful. Sombra was unbelievably dangerous.

“They are remarkably inconsistent. Its unclear if they are lying and it seems like a lot of left-wing nonsense to me,” added Angela in a reasoned tone, “I don't think we can trust them or her, whoever they are, however, given the evidence, they seem to be in the right on this one”

Jack looked at Angela in outrage. He wanted revenge against the Los Muertos punks who beat him up. This was an honor battle. He had seen how closely Talon and Los Muertos were working and experienced their sadism and mob mentality first hand.

“I've been in Mexico hunting Los Muertos for months, you don't know what I've seen, what they do to children. They banged me up pretty bad, I wouldn't be alive if I didn't have all that junk in my system”

Angela looked away. Her objective mind tried to downplay the anecdotal evidence but she couldn't totally betray Jack. She'd seen the damage they'd done to his body and knew that he wanted revenge. Only deeply cruel and disturbed people could have tortured Jack the way they did. She was out, there was no need to add further violence to such a complicated situation. Winston stayed firm. He knew it wasn't fair to Jack but he had decided long ago to only deal with facts.

“There's more,” said Winston as he switched the image to a picture of Lucio introducing Miguel at his Dia de Los Muertos concert. “You are all familiar with Lucio?” All the agents with the exception of Jack, who stared on unfazed, nodded. He had no idea who Lucio was and wasn't about to show it. “He appears to support the movement happening in Mexico. Recall that we didn't intervene in Brazil when he started his movement there...”

The agents murmured among each other.

"Alright, everyone shut up. We decide now. Show of hands. Raised says we go in," said Jack.

Winston cleared his throat to speak.

“I just want to be clear, this vote is just as much about the future of Mexico as it is about stopping Talon”

Jack raised his hand.

Ana raised her hand.

"I abstain," said Angela coolly, "I'll go if the vote passes, that's the best I can do, Jack"

"You won't catch me defending a fascist," said Tracer sitting down and crossing her arms, “no way”

"Sorry, Jack. It's not our place," said Pharah, "I'm saying no"

"I already know how you'll vote Winston," said Jack.

He snorted in response.

“I am with you all the way,” said Reinhardt raising his hand, “we must take every opportunity to crush Talon”

"Torbjorn, it's down to you"

"Right, that's a no, Jack.” Reinhardt looked at Torbjorn in surprise and disappointment. “I'm an engineer, I know when things are too complicated for me to get involved in. Best to let the people of Mexico decide"

Jack pounded his fist on the table startling Angela. She exhaled in exasperation, Angela hated violence.

"OK, guess you all get to skip out on the job but I'm going in alone whether you like it or not,” he said in a gruff tone. “Let me just add that this would have gone very differently in my day. You're all dismissed. You can go back to your lives," he turned to Angela, "and your careers"

Jack turned and left for his quarters. Ana caught up with him.

"Maybe we're too old to see it, Jack," she said, "we've followed orders for a long time, look at where it got us"

“That monkey stabbed me in the back-” said Jack pointing towards the briefing room.

“He's doing what he feels in his heart is right,” interrupted Ana, “maybe we all ought to start questioning authority more, he's right to look at the evidence”

“Well, he's got a lot to learn about honor,” Jack retorted, “you never go against a fellow agent”

“He's not a soldier, Jack”

He huffed and put his hands on his hips.

“What is it Jack?” said Ana as if he were a grumpy husband.

“I'm taking volunteers”

“Don't do this, Jack. You know I will go with you”

Jack gave a boyish grin.

“I always could count on you...”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are so much more interesting when people hate each other and no one agrees.


	21. Chapter 21

_The next day, Chapultepec Castle_

“Confused fighting broke out yesterday in government control city led areas of Mexico City as FLN regulars stormed the city from the countryside. Refugees fleeing the were caught up in the heavy fighting on Mexico City's major highways as government forces attempted to oversee the evacuation of the city and hold back FLN forces. Civilian casualties are said to be at an all time high... President Guillermo Portero and his Vice President Ernesto Diaz Ordaz are still missing amid the chaos... FLN spokesperson Lt. Miguel Loya and leader of yesterday's attack on Los Pinos asserted in an impromptu interview that the President was safe in FLN custody. Lt. Miguel, however, was denounced on the FLN's official website and social media accounts as a terrorist who's actions in no way represented the FLN... Members of the Mexican Chamber of Deputies awarded emergency powers to the Secretariat of National Defense Carlos Echeverria who is, as of right now the effective leader of the Mexican government. More details to come later in the broadcast...”

“Sombra, we need that changed,” said Miguel watching the news report on a large screen they had set up in their makeshift command room.

“I'm already on it...” she replied tapping on her haptic keyboard.

Sombra was in a weird mood. Some bloody instinct told her to go hard today, she was trying to forget her night with Lucio. It didn't make sense to her, everything she did and how she felt. The idea that she could lose a fight to him burned in her mind. She thought he was pathetic for loving her. At the same time, it horrified her that she could even touch a hair on the head of the only person besides Bronson who made her feel like she was safe, that she could be loved and that she wasn't alone. It felt at times that all she wanted to do was make him feel good. Sombra was disoriented, the only thing she could think to do was bully Lucio or avoid him.

Maybe she was a preying mantis. Or maybe she should just admit that she wanted to marry Lucio. Although, she would have to kill Hana for that. The depressing thought sauntered in that she was too fucked up to be with him. He'd never approve of the way she made a living and they disagreed on nearly everything. Though, if she was honest, he was the person who got her into left-wing politics and gave her hope when she was a street rat. It sometimes felt like she owed everything to him. She regretted not holding him as they slept, not begging him to stay and not spilling out her secrets and confessing everything. It felt like she was in withdrawal from him. But it was stupid, she knew she was unstable.

Better to focus on hacking.

She was pleased to learn that some Overwatch idiot had directly plugged in to Jack's visor to extract the data she planted. Jack's headgear was a bug and now she had the names and email addresses of all the members of the New Overwatch. She was  _very_ pleased to learn that the New Overwatch was as divided as ever, that they were at each other's throats and had a very poor reaction time. Overwatch would not be a threat to what she was doing here. Maybe later she could pay some of them a visit.

“Sir, General Fox is here to see you,” whispered one of Miguel's soldiers into his ear.

The wizened old guerrilla stepped into the room and approached Miguel. Sombra eyed him moodily as she tapped on her holographic keyboard.

“Lt. Loya, you've made quite a mess,” he said approaching Miguel with his hand extended, “the councils are outraged, they want to hang you.”

“Oh?” said Miguel as he received it to shake.

“However, the guerrilla is very very pleased, no one would have ever tried to stick it to Portero like this in a thousand years. You've handed Mexico City to us on a platter, that's why you are being promoted. You're a hero son.”

A small smile formed on Sombra's mouth as she worked.

“What can I say? Sometimes all it takes is a little push,” said Miguel looking over to Sombra.

“It was an offer the councils couldn't refuse. You've changed the entire landscape of this war,” said General Fox, "my only hope is that drawing us into the city was not a trap."

“Its not a war, _compañero_. Its a revolution,” replied Miguel. "As far as a trap, I am confident they didn't see this coming. My sources are reliable." 

Fox gave a cynical smile at this remark. Sombra's ears rang at the 'reliable' comment and she was given pause for a moment as she honestly considered whether or not she really was reliable.

“Indeed,” he said withdrawing his hand, “where do we start?”

“We need to lock down this city,” said Miguel, “there are still pockets of government resistance—”

“I'm afraid politics comes first,” interrupted Sombra.

The general cleared his throat to prepare to chew out Sombra for the unexpected interruption.

"No need, general..." assured Miguel.

Sombra stood. She had changed. After sleeping she went through the empress's wardrobe and found an Italian mink coat with a fox fur collar. She'd committed an unspeakable act of terrorism against it and unceremoniously cut the sleeves and trimmed the length, taking to wearing it and pretty much only it and her lingerie. Widowmaker had been avoiding her all day because she smelled like a brothel and 'was barely covering her dignity.' She'd also gone to war with her hair, chopping off huge sections and leaving pretty much only bangs and a scalp that was unevenly cut to within a centimeter of its life. Her pink hair littered empress Carlotta's bathroom floor.

“Who is she?” the general asked as she sauntered towards him.

“She's a Talon... um... adviser.”

“Looks like Los Muertos...” muttered the general narrowing his eyes as he noticed her neon body paint.

As she approached the old general detected the distinct smell of sex on her. He found her threatening, she looked unstable, savage, or perhaps like a prostitute or demon or both. Although her now runny Los Muertos markings made her look like a deranged performance artist.

“I'm Sombra,” she said simply.

The general looked at Miguel in disbelief. Miguel nodded.

“Sombra! You? Working for Talon?” the general fumbled for words.

Sombra smirked. Yes she was real, yes she was working for Talon. She enjoyed how confusing she was to people. Sombra sized the general up. He seemed fusty to her. How easily would he be manipulated?

“Don't think about it too hard, general,” she said with a vicious smile.

“Sombra is our secret weapon, she has many talents. I would like to take the credit but she made all this possible,” said Miguel.

The general went to shake her hand but she lightly poked the palm of his hand with her lethal nails and laughed. He recoiled quickly from the sudden sharp pain, very clearly finding it offensive. He looked at Sombra with an expression of utter outrage.

"Sorry, I actually don't shake," she said fanning her nails at him, "wouldn't a hug would be more appropriate?"

"Sombra, cool it, he is one of us," muttered Miguel, "are you on drugs?"

Sombra cocked her head to the side, gauging the general's reaction. Sombra was a demon but she was clearly very beautiful, he hadn't touched a girl like that since he was in his 20's. Who was he to refuse? He was still reeling from the idea that this woman was actually Sombra. Sombra bit her lip and eyed him expectantly. He cleared his throat and went in for the hug. As Sombra leaned in, her bra scrunched and he could see her tits. In fact, he could see pretty much everything. And her odor... This was a little more intimate than he hoped.

"Up here, general," she said as she hugged him and his chin rocketed up from the floor.

"Thank you for your commitment, we need more people like you..." he said trying to keep his wits about him.

They hugged for a short moment and stepped back awkwardly. The general turned away and fixed his cap to reset his composure before again facing them. Sombra watched him with an almost drunken smile.

Miguel rolled his eyes.

Sombra was something else today.

"Sombra's tactics are... unconventional but effective," he said trying to ground this bizarre encounter.

“Indeed,” said the general with more than a little concern, “you've certainly introduced more than a few unpredictable factors into this war.”

“I assure you, O-31 has become a major asset, they are the groundwork for the new government” she replied.

“The what?”

Sombra smiled.

“It was decided last night, Miguel will be making the announcement to the press today and it will be formally declared by next week...”

The general's eyes shot to Miguel. This was practically treasonous. 

“We have much to discuss, general...” Miguel said with a smirk.

 

* * *

 

Lucio stumbled into the hospital where Hana was waiting. She had moved to the reception area when Alejandra's parents came to get her. Olivia was with her waiting fearfully. She nudged Hana awake when she saw him enter. Hana snorted awake.

"Lucio!" shouted Hana as she ran up to hug him.

Immediately she could tell something was off, he wouldn't look at her.

"Oh my God, are you OK?" she asked pulling back, "you look like you wrestled a bear."

"You look like hell, Lucio," said Olivia standing to meet him.

"Oh hi, Olivia," he said meekly, "didn't expect you."

The two girls looked at each other. Lucio was completely off.

"What happened with Sombra?" asked Hana.

"We fought."

"And?"

"I couldn't do it... I couldn't. I tried to tell her what she did was wrong. We fought and I beat her but I couldn't finish it. She got into my head. I know she's a cold-blooded killer but she's my friend," he said resentfully, "I'm sorry, Hana. I never should have left."

Hana hugged him pressing her ear against his chest.

"It's OK. It's because you are a good person."

"I'm not a good person, Hana," he said tearfully, "I don't know, maybe you were right about me and her."

"What do you mean?"

"I dunno, Hana. I—"

"It's OK. You tried. You confronted her and stood up to her. That's what matters," she interrupted trying to reassure him, "bring me along next time and I won't hesitate."

Lucio chuckled and gave Hana a somewhat melancholic smile as he held her head. Sombra was right, he really was a piece of shit.

"Wow, it must have been up close and personal. I can practically smell her on you," said Hana with a somewhat distraught expression.

She pulled away and regarded him anxiously. There was the faintest smell of Lucio she recognized from when they had sex: the proteinous smell of his semen and a body odor that signified he had exerted himself. The odors swam in such a way that Hana could vividly picture them having sex. Did they? No, it was unimaginable. It was Hana's worst nightmare. There was no way Lucio would do that to her. And how the hell could they have done it in the middle of a war? Hana knew enough about Sombra to know that she would never let Lucio have sex with her.

She inspected his body for signs of what had happened, he was covered in horrific scratch marks and bruises. His head was particularly injured. The apparent brutality of their fight gave Hana a weird comfort. But what the hell had happened between them? What did they talk about?

The smell mixed again and a sting of unhealthy paranoia hit, she wanted to know everything. Hana let go and narrowed her eyes at Lucio. The couple’s eyes met and Lucio felt an overwhelming burden to confess. He could feel Hana was about to call him out.

"Hana, Sombra and I—" he started.

Olivia cleared her throat.

She also knew what Sombra smelled like. The hacker had run all three of them through the ringer. A skilled conversationalist, Olivia took on the duty of papering over the impact of Hana's observation. "So, Lucio," she interrupted flatly, "am I to understand you ruined your concert for this girl to pay back a debt and then tried to fight her over it?"

"Its more complicated then that..." he replied.

"She tried to blow us up," said Hana folding her arms.

Olivia scoffed.

"I could tell she was bad news," she said, “I'm glad I quit, she sank your career.”

Not if he could count on Sombra. Although, that would now be complicated.

He could feel himself drifting to the darkside—to Sombra’s way of lying and cheating, her way of justifying things. He felt ashamed. He’d been under the influence of a narcissist.

"Hana, what is Olivia doing here?" said Lucio, mildly irritated.

"I didn't want to wait for you alone..."

"My flight was canceled, _all_ flights were canceled. I barely got out of the airport alive," she said tersely, "plus Hana said you'd pay me." She paused for a moment as Lucio looked at Hana. "A lot. I'm an expensive baby sitter."

"Alright, Olivia. We'll figure it out when we get back to Rio."

“And my severance pay.”

“But you quit, I didn't fire you.”

Olivia gave Lucio her conniving professional smile, a shark's grin. Lucio scoffed at her. He'd had enough of a taste of sociopathic women for a lifetime. Although, somehow, after dealing with Sombra, Olivia seemed like a lightweight.

“Cool it, Olivia. Lets just get out of here alive,” he said, “do we know when flights resume?”

“That would be up to our new benefactors,” said Olivia pointing to the reception room television.

As if on cue, it was playing an interview with Miguel.

“Yes, we are the new government of Mexico City,” he answered the reporter, “we've been working all night to establish everything from the legal and philosophical basis of our rule to how we will collect trash.”

“What about the mass exodus from the city?” asked the reporter, “how will you manage the crisis?”

Miguel cleared his throat, this question bothered him.

“We are encouraging people to stay, however, it is up to the citizens if they want to leave. FLN troops will not stop them.”

“About the crisis at the airport, a number of people, especially foreign nationals and people trying to escape the violence are stranded—”

Miguel looked to the side, a Talon adviser moved on screen briefly and whispered something in his ear.

“Yes, we are aware of the situation. The airport is not under FLN control and we cannot liberate it with so many civilians on the premises. I assure you that it is the fault of the illegitimate Portero government. We encourage people who are discontent with the situation to take _direct action_...”

“Oh no,” whispered Hana looking at the screen.

At the airport bored, irritated and fearful passengers looked up at the television screens. Miguel's address was piped in all over the airport's bars, restaurants and waiting areas. Government soldiers and security personnel shifted and eyed each other nervously. An officer brusquely walked up to the manager of an airmall restaurant and ordered him to turn off the televisions. Throughout the airport the monitors were ordered to be turned off or have the channels changed. But the message had gotten out.

Angry hubbub emerged from the waiting passengers. They had been waiting and pushed around by security personnel all day.

“Please, ladies and gentlemen, remain calm and be patient. Flights will resume shortly when the situation is under control...” said a security officer.

“This woman needs heart surgery, she can't get it done here, she needs to go to a US doctor!” shouted a man angrily, “she'll die if she doesn't make her flight!”

The man looked to be a high strung foreign professional, he wore a suit and thin rimmed glasses. 

“We understand that you all need to make your flights...”

More hubbub came from the crowd. The man angrily approached the officer.

“Sir, I am asking you to return to your seat,” he said holding his hand out.

The man continued undeterred.

“Don't you get it? You are costing lives!” he shouted.

Murmurs of agreement came from the crowd.

“I said sit down, sir.”

The officer positioned his hand on his gun.

“What are you going to do? Shoot me?”

“Sir, I am giving you one final warning to sit down.”

Several burly members of the crowd stood and approached the officer. They had had enough. He turned towards each of them taking a shooting stance.

“Come any closer and I will shoot!” he said suddenly drawing his gun.

The man charged as someone lunged from the side pushing the gun towards the ceiling. The officer fired reflexively and the bullet ricocheted off the ceiling injuring a child's arm. At that point the crowd had had enough and engulfed him. Chaos erupted as the revolution arrived at the airport.

Flights would resume by the end of the day...

When Lucio entered the airport he was greeted as a hero. A number of people had seen or heard about what he did at his Dia de Los Muertos concert and were relieved to see that he was OK.

On the flight back home, Hana drifted in and out of consciousness with an irritating dream of Sombra and Lucio fighting. Lucio watched her sleep fitfully on his arm.

Lucio had no idea what he was going to do to pass the time, let alone when he arrived home. He'd smashed his phone. He tried variously to make up music in his head, watch the in flight movie and think of all the damage control he would have to do when he got back but all he could think of was Sombra.

Something told him he’d never see her again. There was so much he wanted to know about her. He couldn't believe what they’d shared, as brief as it was. It was as if he’d caught a glimpse of who she was before she was twisted by revenge and hatred. He was finally close to her, he kicked himself for letting her turn it into just another one of her hookups. He satisfied himself with the commfort that Sombra had always been unstable, the idea that he could connect with the Sombra he met in his early 20's—the idealistic punky fan girl, a little less mature for her age, who swooned over radical politics—was absurd. Maybe he was the one who planted the seed all that time ago, when he needed to hide out in Mexico after his first act of resistance against Vishkar. He stayed with her in a Los Muertos squat and she couldn't keep her hands off him, she thought he was so cool. She told him she wasn't comfortable being sexual with him unless there was another girl, so it goes...

Lucio ran his hand through Hana's hair and she shifted. He would have to be very good to her to keep her, better than he had been. Hana wasn't stupid, it would only be a matter of time until she found out what had happened between him and Sombra. Or maybe she knew already but loved him so much she didn't care. Only time could tell...

 

* * *

 

_Later..._

Sombra stood over Bronson's burial plot at Panteón Civil de Dolores not far from the castle. The headstone wasn't a headstone, it was a piece of wood marked with white paint: Carlos "Bronson" Gonzales. She felt she should honor him while it was still the holiday. She constructed an altar for him consisting of votive candles, flowers, a machine gun belt, a bottle of rum and Los Muertos sugar skulls.

"Never thought you were the type for religious holidays..." came a cool voice with a distinct south western affect from behind her.

Sombra bristled. She didn't detect him at all, he could have easily taken her head off and become one of his bounties.

"I don't have time for gay cowboys," she replied flatly.

"You and me both sister."

Sombra humphed then turned to face him. McCree was taken aback.

"What happened to you? Pardon me sayin' but you look like a bomb went off in a whore house on Halloween."

"Thank you, McCree," she said with passive aggressive enthusiasm.

"Now, no need for that, I'm just here to check on ya." He gestured to Bronson's head stone. "Friend of yours?"

She turned back to the grave and adjusted the flowers.

"Close friend."

"My condolences," said McCree taking off his hat.

"So, what have I done this time?"

"Girlfriend, you are all over the news. I don't know how you keep it together with Talon but somebody's gonna find out who you are."

Sombra sighed.

"I'm starting not to care. I never thought I would live this long anyways."

McCree grimaced and stepped to Sombra's side.

"Not very professional..." he chided, "would make my job less fun too. I like these visits, I get to remind ya I can kill ya."

Sombra's eyes shifted.

"So you got another job to do me?"

"Yep," he said gripping his belt and rocking his pelvis forward.

"Who?"

"Way way up there, from the top. Bigwig CIA fella," he said, "interesting thing, he called you 'agent.'" McCree narrowed his eyes. "You wouldn't know why that is would you?"

Sombra licked her teeth as she thought. It was quite a tell. McCree's Blackwatch credentials made Talon agents more keen to share information with him. This meant Talon was already infiltrating the US. She knew she had enemies in Talon but no one had dared act on it. Perhaps killing Francisco had broken a sacred seal. Agents were never supposed to work against each other. How many people in Talon were out to get her?

"No," she said flatly.

McCree humphed disapprovingly, Sombra was being tight lipped.

"Thought so but I somehow doubt it's 'cause you work for the CIA."

They looked at Bronson's grave in silence.

"The People's Republic of Mexico, huh? With your buddy as president," McCree laughed, "page right outta history. He'll be dodging bullets comin' out his own asshole. How longs it gonna last?"

Sombra was silent.

"Well, OK then," said McCree.

"How much he pay you?" Sombra asked.

He smiled.

"Enough for me to never have to work again."

"How about so you and your Japanese boy toy never have to work again?"

"It ain't quite that, he's expensive, I'll tell you that."

"I have a job for you, McCree."

"Say no more," he replied putting his hat on. "Now I'm glad I dropped by, I was thinking you didn't appreciate me." Sombra humphed. McCree chuckled in response. "I know why you're my favorite drinking buddy. You got a way with words."

"Oh yeah, want to stick around?" she said shifting to face him with a coy smile.

McCree gave her the up and down. Her outfit spelled trouble.

"Maybe some other time. I better get going, I thought I saw a barn owl," he tipped his hat, "I know you won't but stay outta trouble. I'll be in touch."

McCree swaggered out. His eyes scanned his surroundings for Talon agents. He'd stuck his neck out for Sombra against his better judgment but it was better to have her owe him. Although, truly, he hoped that Sombra would survive, she was a rare animal and she'd always had it rough.


	22. Chapter 22

_Los Muertos,_

_We are at the precipice. The “legitimate” elements of O-31 have broken away and formed a party in the new government. The FLN and O-31 have their contradictions, it is the classic divide between city and country. They will work out their differences in the course of the new government._

_But what is the future of Los Muertos?_

_The revolution would not have succeeded without the criminal underground, without terrorism and urban guerrillas. We are the repressed core of their politics. They want to look like Che and Castro, honorable soldiers who beat capitalism with the willpower of their noble guerrillas. They sprinkle this with a flair of Chavez populism with supposed free elections. They still want to forget us._

_What about the the drop outs and anarchists, the punks and queers, drug dealers and prostitutes, con-artists and thieves, or our useless street artists and "theoreticians"?_

_The activists and organizers have their careers ahead of them as politicians. They will promise us free education, free healthcare, and full employment. But h_ _ow will we last now that we have what we wanted?_

_We must do two things._

_1\. We must survive. We must keep the squats, galleries and brothels open as free spaces for the oppressed and marginalized. We must claim even more space for our movement and we must stay armed to make sure the government keeps its promises._

_2\. We must expand our franchise northward. Our people in the United States suffer under the rule of the imperialist white supremacists. We must liberate them._

_Aztlán is our next goal. It is not a dream. We've accomplished more than we could have imagined. Let us not stop now._

_I am with you._

_\- Sombra_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it. Let me know what you liked, what you didn't like, what you thought could use improvement, etc. This is the first time I've written anything of this scope. I really enjoyed writing Sombra as an anti-hero and developing her character so there will be more stories to come. So yeah, comments comments comments, I want to know what ya'll think!


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